Oversights
by TheresAlwaysAMystery
Summary: He'd even tried to tell her once, after an oversight had caused him to drink one too many. Now he wished that she'd believed him then. Warnings; mentions of death, crime scene descriptions. Genre Addition: Crime/Mystery. Adding Characters here b/c it won't let me below, this story also includes Abigail and Hanson. Thanks to thisisfromawhileago for the cover art!
1. Cognac

A/N:: Thanks to my new beta Mondhase, who is amazing enough to go over this tale in its monstrosity to right my wrongs, this is a now edited Chapter One.

Enjoy

The story is mine, the characters are not

* * *

"Henry, there is no way, that I am letting you come to work tomorrow. I know you have paperwork you promised Detective Griffin you'd come in and finish tomorrow morning but he can live with Lucas's work. It won't kill him, or you. It's your day off, you're going to have a hangover like you wouldn't believe, and Lucas will be feeling guilty enough without you subtly making him pay for it all day."

"Why would he do this?" Henry replied slowly, taking great care to pick words that would hopefully make sense, before loosing control and simply saying what came to mind. "There is a reason Detective, that I only ever have one drink. There-there are things I cannot talk about, things that need to stay a secret." He reached out to grab Jo's arm, trying to convey the importance of his statement; but he missed, his aim uncharacteristically off.

Lucas had made it his mission to get the poor doctor drunk. He'd wanted answers of some sort, and had somehow kept Henry's glass of cognac full much longer than it should have been. That, and it had taken Henry much longer to notice than it should have.

"Mmmhmmm" Jo responded distractedly, gently grasping Henry's shoulders and guiding him around the light pole he was about to walk into and towards the door to his antique shop.

"Isn't it considered rude, even here in America, to talk back to your elders? Don't patronize me-"

Jo shot back a retort immediately. "Oh, don't you even try, you're not that much older than I am."

"I'm older than I look, trust me."

"Henry, don't you try to pull this shit with me," Jo rolled her eyes. "I've read your file, I know your birthday."

"The month and day, yes, but I may have fibbed about the year." Henry looked down guiltily.

"Really? Is that what it's getting to these days?" she sighed. "I thought it was only older women who lied about their birthdays, not middle age, decently attractive men." She stopped walking, as they arrived at the door to Henry's and Abe's shop, and spun to face him head on. "Seriously though, you're going to have to come up with something better than that, it's not believable. You're hopeless with technology," Gently she pried the keys from Henry's hand, and opened the door, letting herself and Henry inside.

"1779. it was a decent year, historically speaking… " Henry babbled on as he usually did; history lesson after history lesson, and Jo grinned.

"So you're trying to tell me that you not only lied about your age, but you lied about it by two hundred years?"

"What? No no, It's a… umm…" Drunken Henry tried to cover his tracks, a little unsuccessfully, but it didn't really matter, because Jo wasn't taking any of it seriously anyways.

As if on cue, Abe emerged from the depths of the shop, chuckling silently "1889 is a bottle of Chateau d'Yquem, although it's incredibly hard to find, and extremely expensive. Henry's got a weakness for it." He shook his head in humorous dismay as he saw his father beginning to have trouble standing. "Henry, Henry, what have you gotten yourself into?"

"Me! No, no, no I did nothing, it was Lucas, he did this! Ask Jo!" He waved somewhat in Jo's direction and she nodded in agreement with a little chuckle. Abe rolled his eyes, and mouthed a quick thanks in her direction, before pulling an arm over his shoulder, and guiding Henry into the other room, where he ended up on the couch.

"Where are you-"

"I'll just be a minute Henry," came Abe's amused answer, as he went to thank the detective again. "He's not gonna like this when he wakes up tomorrow."

"I can't imagine he would. Lucas's got guts, I'll give him that. Might not have been the smartest thing to do, but I'd be lying if I said it wasn't the least bit funny."

"I'll be sure to tell him"

Jo grinned. "You do that." She paused, thinking, and winced slightly. "Well, maybe not that last bit," Smiling in amusement, she put her hand on the door to leave. "I wouldn't want him to think I sat here all night laughing at him, I'd never hear the end of it."

"I gotcha back" Abe replied, winking. "Thank you, detective, for stopping all this before it got too out of hand."

"Just doing my job. My partner gets embarrassed, part of it's on me." She shrugged slightly, as if to say, 'what can you do?' "Oh, and I won't be calling him in tomorrow, don't you let him even try to get down to the morgue. It's his day off and I know he's getting into the habit of skipping those, but he's not allowed this time; I'll keep Griffin busy After a night like tonight, he needs the day off. -And it's probably better to give Henry a day to calm down before I set him on Lucas. Not that Lucas doesn't deserve it, but…"

Abe nodded. "I won't let him out, scout's honour."

Jo tilted her head slightly, something about the wording setting of warning bells in her head. "Were you even ever a scout?" she asked skeptically.

Abe shrugged, his eye filled with good humour. "I guess you'll find out tomorrow, won't you?"

She laughed for a moment, then turned to leave. With a nod and another thanks, she was out the door, and Abe was re-locking it.

oOoOoOoOoOo

"You came so close to telling her, I almost didn't save your ass. You're just prolonging the inevitable anyways."

"Abe, there is a time and a place… and when I am drunk, for the first time in over fifty years, is certainly not the right time."

"Figured you'd say something like that." Abe sighed, and pushed a cup of coffee closer to Henry.

Henry took it and drained the contents, then lifted a hand to his head. "My head is pounding," he said, "This awful headache is the main reason I don't drink that much."

"Are you sure it's not because of you potentially telling people you can't die-"

"Fine." Henry huffed, "The second reason then. Lucas is going to be-"

"Hey, hey, take it easy on the kid. He was just trying to get some answers out of you, right? Considering you've known him for years, and have told him virtually nothing about yourself, I don't blame him."

"Really? You're going to take his side? Abraham." He said his name with a tone of disappointment.

"I'm not saying it was the best of ideas, but I've got to give him credit for trying. Even Jo said she had to admire his guts."

Henry dismissed the last comment; he'd speak to Jo about all of this later. Sighing, he stood up, making as little noise as he could. "I cannot go to work like this, I'll be in my laboratory. I need some of that tonic you can be so fond of."

"Detective Martinez said you're not to come in, and that she'll talk to- what's his name? She feels bad for what happened-"

"Our dear picky Detective Griffin. And doesn't want me to see Lucas just yet, does she?" he groaned, and continued on his trek downstairs, talking the entire time. "Let me guess, she thinks that giving me a day to 'cool off', to use the modern colloquialism, will alleviate the extra work I have planned." He sighed. "She's probably right. So I suppose I won't be going in then." For a minute or two it was almost silent as Henry worked, only the sipping of coffee and clanging of beakers could be heard. Then he returned upstairs, and looked down at himself in disgust. "I need to go change into more acceptable clothing. As to why you didn't force me to change last night, we'll discuss that later."

Abe simply chuckled, and raised his voice so that he could continue talking even though Henry was now upstairs. "Henry, you are a very stubborn man, you should know that. You didn't want to, and there was nothing I could do to change your mind!"

Henry came down the stairs in a surprisingly short amount of time in a new suit, and with a new scarf around his neck.

"Forgive me, Abe, but perhaps next time you should elect to… force me to take a swim. Goodness knows it would have flushed the alcohol out of my body, I wouldn't have slept in my clothes, and I wouldn't have a hangover. I see no downside."

Abe shot him a look.

"Other than that, yes." Henry sighed. He already asked too much of Abe, he wouldn't seriously ask for _that, _not unless it was a real emergency. "You're right. You did the best you could, I'm sorry for doubting you"

"There's a simple solution you know." Abe crossed his arms and shrugged. "Don't get drunk again."

Henry ignored his son's cheeky attitude. "I have no plan to. It was completely accidental, and I don't intend to consume alcohol away from home in the near future. It put me in much too compromising a situation. Now," Henry directed his next question, "If I'm to be stuck here all day, we might as well make it worthwhile." he teased. "Fancy a game?" he pointed to the chess board, which was always set up for another match.

Abe took that to mean the conversation was over, which was fine with him. "Oh yes! Maybe I finally have a chance at beating you. The whole hung-over thing could be good for me." He rubbed his hand together in glee

"Unlikely, but I wish you the best," Henry smirked and they sat down to play.


	2. Working with the Police

A/N:: So i'm getting more of a direction in my head, and i thought i should let you guys know :-P First; This will likely be slow building, but i guarantee that at some point, whether he wants to or not, Henry will tell Jo about his immortality. Second; I haven't decided yet if Henry and Jo will become a couple here, but they will certainly be the adorable friends we currently know them as, maybe more so. Third; I'm no doctor or med student, so i apologize for any errors in that department, but the story wouldn't be right without an M.E. doing his job. Also, Crime scenes shouldn't get much worse description-wise than this here. I just don't have the stomach for it.

Of course, i don't own the characters, just my little story that i've started.

* * *

Jo managed to keep Henry and Lucas apart for another day, but that was about the end of her abilities.

"Listen Dr. Morgan, I'm really sorry, but I couldn't stand it anymore! You say the strangest things, except you don't even realize it; it's as if reciting to the whole world a firsthand account of the original performance of the Scarlet Pimpernel is normal. Do you go around reading this obscure stuff for fun? You know so much about everything that comes in here, and it's started to really freak me out, okay Doc?"

Henry shot him a look for the first time since he'd walked in the room, interrupting the autopsy. Lucas ducked his head slightly as he pulled on his lab coat.

"Sorry, sorry, yeah, I know you don't like 'Doc'. In fact that's one of the few things I do know about you! And Guam? You claim to have spent so much time there, but you never say anything about it, and you have these ancient photographs that you don't think anyone ever sees you looking at, but I do." He sighed, and out of habit almost took the organ Henry was handing to him without having put gloves on.

Henry pulled his arm back just in time.

"Lucas!" He said, his voice layered with disappointment.

"Yeah, Doctor? -Oh. Right, sorry." He hurried to pull on some gloves before taking the spleen and weighing it, falling quickly back on muscle memory.

"Really Lucas, what were you thinking? Not only could you have contaminated yourself with the as of yet un-identified toxin, although I suspect it's a simple case of Clostridium botulinum, but you also risked contaminating the organ with your own, likely filthy hands. I expect more from you, you should know better by now." His voice had the tone only a letdown parent could.

Lucas nodded hurriedly. "I know I know, I'm sorry, I was just so nervous, and I forgot, and-"

"Don't do it again. I need my associates to be competent on their feet no matter what is happening in their lives." Not everyone's as resilient as I am, he thought wryly.

"Of course." Lucas' cheeks flushed a light pink.

They went to work in silence, and with every passing minute Lucas became more tense. That was it? That was the whole of it? No switching tasks with the interns for a week, a month? No lecture about the side effects of consuming too much alcohol, and the dangers of getting someone drunk without knowing beforehand that there would be no ill side effects? He'd been prepared for all of that, and more. He'd been ready to grovel for his job, or beg to be allowed to continue working with the Doctor.

What he hadn't been prepared for was this. Dr. Morgan was acting as though nothing had happened at all. Nothing. It was unnerving.

Henry, however, was having fun. He'd done this with Abe when he was younger. So many people didn't realize that the expectation of punishment or retribution of some sort - especially for an individual with an imagination like Lucas' - was often far worse than any menial task that could be assigned as a punishment.

Our minds can so often be the worst of tormentors, Henry thought to himself as he watched Lucas squirm, and chuckled.

"What's so funny?" Jo had come up behind him, and he shook his head gently.

"It's nothing, Detective, really."

She looked over at Lucas, and back to Henry. She hadn't become a detective by being oblivious, she knew there was something going on, but for now she elected to say nothing.

"Alright then, What do you have for me?" She nodded towards the body on the slab.

"Not murder. Clostridium botulinum, from the Latin for sausage, botolus. Discovered in Germany 1895,-

"Henry, again with the history lesson."

"Very well," he smirked slightly, "You shouldn't discourage every opportunity to learn though, some of this, 'trivia', as I've heard it be compared with, can be quite useful."

"Yeah, useful if I was a M.E. which I'm not. So make Lucas listen, I just need to know how the guy died."

"Well, he certainly wasn't a very social man. He lived alone, unkempt facial hair, fingernails chewed, the clothing hadn't been washed in weeks. Clearly he wasn't one for social events."

"Clearly" Jo humoured him. She'd take his word for it.

"He's a writer, or a journalist, spent far too much time typing at his laptop. Severe carpal tunnel in both his wrists." He held one up to show her.

"Didn't have to be writing…" Jo suggested, although she knew he wouldn't have said it if he weren't sure.

"Look here on his left forearm." Where he directed her gaze was a tattoo, of average quality, but more than an image, a quote.

"You never have to change anything you got up in the middle of the night to write ~Saul Bellow" Jo read aloud. "Alright, so he's a writer, and a struggling one at that, to be living in Hunts Point"

"Struggling being the operative word. Clostridium botulinum is generally found in foods that haven't been preserved properly, normally when the job is attempted at home. If you were to send someone to his residence, I suspect you would find a container of some sort with turkey in it; the contents of his stomach lead me to believe that it is the fowl, which is our most likely culprit."

"So not murder then."

"Certainly not."

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"Dectective, you have to get him to stop! I can't take it any longer!"

Jo looked up to see Lucas wringing one of his comic books in his hands. He was twisting it into a tube, again and again in a manner that couldn't be healthy for the odd piece of literature as he stepped into the meeting room Jo had commandeered. She had paperwork to go through, and had opted to litter the larger desk with the sheets, rather than clutter her small desk. She sighed. It wasn't that he didn't deserve whatever punishment Henry decided to hand out, but the doctor wasn't doing anything, not really. "Lucas, he's not doing anything, And if he's decided to put it behind him…" the Detective shrugged as she reached over to grab a pile of papers halfway across the table, shuffling them into a neat stack before dropping them into an accordion folder. "Then I don't see why you're not taking this opportunity to forget about it."

Lucas tilted his head from one side to the other, considering what she'd said before continuing. "But, Jo, the silence is deafening!"

"So he hasn't been talking at all? I find that hard to believe. Even keeping everything close to his chest, he still finds his little bits of nonsense to go on about." There was a silent buzz from her pocket, and she pulled out her cell. A text from Hanson; looked like a new case.

"Well yeah, he talks, but not about that evening. It's as if it never happened and I-" Lucas paused, seemingly unaware of Jo's divided attention as he focused on his reason for talking to Jo in the first place."I need closure." He held his head up high, the image of stubborness, of one who was determined not to leave until she agreed to help.

"I'll talk to him" Jo conceded, starting to pack up her things.

Lucas relaxed in surprise, "Really?" he exclaimed in relief "-I mean," he tried to regain his composure, clearing his throat "Thank you, detective" he nodded and went to leave the room, but froze with the door half open.

Detective Martinez stood to leave, and found a worried assistant in her way. "Dr. Wahl?" She queried tentatively.

"Is he okay?" he turned suddenly and asked her, concerned, "I mean, he's always been strange, but he said some odd things that night, and…"

"Lucas, stop." Jo started towards her desk, and Lucas fell into step slightly behind her, hanging on every word. "He's your boss; it's not your responsibility to be worried about him. Go ahead, be curious about the past; we all are, but leave the worrying to me." She reached for her phone, and held it to her ear. "That's my job."

He nodded slowly. "Alright then. So it's back to the silent room full of bodies for me?"

She nodded, typing in the extension for Henry's office. "Just do your job, don't worry about the other night. I'll talk to him."

Lucas nodded as well, and spun on the back of his heel to leave.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Henry was sitting in his office, finishing up a report when the phone rang. Only one person ever called him on that phone.

"Detective, how may I be of assistance?"

"We've got a fresh one, interested in coming along?"

"Well, fresh is a term that remains to be determined." He leant over to grab his bag, and stood.

"Henry, it's an expression"

"One that is lacking in respect for the deceased."

"So you're coming then?"

"Of course. Someone at the crime scene should be able to empathize with the victim."

"Sympathize."

"I'm sorry?"

"You meant 'sympathize'. I hardly believe you can empathize"

"Yes, yes, of course." he winced at his careless mistake, "I'll be there shortly."

Jo hung up the phone, and stared at it for a minute or two longer, thinking about the man on the other end. It was the little things, things that didn't matter on their own, but when you added them all up… She sighed and grabbed her keys.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"Well, you hardly need me to tell you that this is murder." Henry commented within seconds of arriving on the scene.

"Thanks for your generosity, but we had that one covered." Jo said wryly.

They stood in an alley, trash bins to the side and the twisted frame of an old bike was leaning against the spray paint decorated rusty brick walls. Not much light made it's way through, even as the sun hung high in the sky.

The scene before them had a woman's corpse lying face down, dressed in an elegant blue gown, a knife in her back, with her internal organs re-arranged on the ground next to her.

Henry knelt to get a closer look, as even Lucas took a step back in surprise.

"Cause of death, based on the lack of blood surrounding the body was the swift blade to the heart. All of this," he gestured to the rest of the remains, "was done afterwards. The killer was organized, careful, and knew exactly what she was doing." He looked up at Jo. "I doubt that Lucas and I will find anything left behind by the killer, she's too careful."

"I knew you'd like this one." Detective Hanson nodded in his direction. "Victim's one Erika Catter, according to her driver's license."

"I do prefer the unusual, that may be Detective, but don't think that I like to see a poor young woman in such a state."

"Wait, Henry," Jo came closer, "did I hear you say our killer is a woman?"

"That's correct. I've seen this handiwork before. Number three, if my memory serves."

"Three? Shouldn't this M.O be on our watch list then?"

"The precinct might want to look at unsolved cases from around the globe more often. Only a few years ago, from 1975 on, we had the Wandering Strangler, who murdered dozens of victims before anyone even noticed, simply because he crossed country lines in between each kill. If the law enforcement had bothered to communicate, the Wandering Strangler may have been caught sooner, and lives could have been saved." The look in Henry's eyes was almost one of disappointment, and Jo could tell he was about to zone out again.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

1978

"Henry darling, It's not your fault." Abigail reached a hand forwards from beside him on the couch to rub his shoulder, but still he refused to turn and look at her. "Henry, look at me please." She pleaded with him.

He turned his head, sadness filling his eyes. "I should have noticed. It was right under my nose."

"However so? You don't work for the police, it's not your job." She smiled slightly, And it's not your responsibility to save everyone, my hero." she sighed and tugged him closer to her. "Don't put that on yourself." Her voice was gentle and comforting, just as much now as it always had been.

Henry allowed himself to be pulled back, and rested partially against Abigail's knees as she pulled them into her chest. "But I knew that there were similar deaths elsewhere, and simply assumed that the police had connected the dots. I should have told them."

"And they wouldn't have taken you seriously, they don't know you like I do."

Henry sighed. "I suppose you're right. You're always right" His beautiful Abigail, ageing so gracefully, he would never understand how she continued to put up with him.

"Still, it's something to think about."

"What is darling?"

"Working with the police."

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"Henry," she snapped her fingers in front of him, "out with it. So we've got a travelling killer?"

He shook his head to clear it, and nodded. "This is nearly identical to a case three years ago in Japan, and another one six years ago in South Africa; I've studied them in my spare time. She wasn't caught- as can be evidenced by this body, and her motive was never discovered."

"So not only do you work on dead bodies all day, you study them all night." She sighed. "You need a life Henry."

If only you knew, he thought.

"Yes, so Abe tells me" came the retort. "I won't apologize for being- passionate about my life's work; death is a teacher."

Hanson came back over just then. "I talked with the Lieutenant, she wants us to keep a lid on it, but continue with the investigation. This one's a big deal apparently."

Jo nodded. "Henry was just telling me all about it"

"Of course he was" Hanson sighed. "You know, some day, I'll beat you to it, I will!"

Henry chuckled. "I look forward to it."

"Do we have a time of death?" Jo asked, ignoring her official partner and focusing on the situation at hand.

Henry tilted his head back and forth, trying to decide how to answer. "I'd wager about two hours ago, but I won't know for sure until we get her back to the lab. The separation of body and organs obviously complicates my estimate."

"All right then. I'll leave you two to clean up this mess; call me when you have something?"

"The very moment" Henry promised

* * *

A/N:: There is no serial killer called the Wandering Strangler. I looked for a case that would fit with the plot, but no luck, so it's completely fiction. Clostridium botulinum, on the other hand, is completely real, and I tried to be as accurate as I could with it.


	3. Abigail

A/N:: Hello! I want to say thank you SO SO SO much for the reviews, and the follows, and the favourites! Hearing from you guys is the best part of this all, and every time I get a notification email my cheeks hurt from grinning so wide! I it means so much to me, so THANK YOU!

So these quick chapter updates aren't going to last forever, enjoy it while you can! You've caught me at a time when i need to be studying... so of course i can't do anything but write! XD

This chapter is a bit more emotional, just a bit. Enjoy.

I do not own the characters, only this story that is being pulled from the depths of my strange mind XD

EDIT:: Thanks to Mondhase for all their patience, and for being a great Beta!

* * *

Hours later, Jo's phone rang. Again.

"Detective Martinez" She answered tiredly, and hoped to god it wasn't another request from the media. How on earth they had gotten her number she had no idea, but the constant calls were driving her mad.

"I have something" Henry said, and then, "Are you all right Detective?"

"I'm fine, Just need to keep better track of who I give my desk number to."

"Understandable. It's one of the reasons I won't carry a cell phone."

"I'm beginning to see the appeal." She sighed. "I'll be down in five."

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"My initial estimate was correct."

"They usually are. So, the victim died two hours before we found her, and C.O.D. was the stab wound?"

"Yes. The killer is approximately five feet, three inches tall, and very strong for her size. The blade used to extract the organs was the same one that was used to kill the victim. She was stabbed in the back, the blade was removed and used to relieve our victim of her most essential organs, and the blade was re-entered into the original wound. It's a common enough knife, but there is no point in looking for it's place of origin-"

"-Because a knife was the only thing missing from her last victim's apartment." Jo finished. Henry nodded, but offered nothing further.

"So that's it?" Jo asked

"I informed you earlier that I was likely to find nothing useful from the killer on the body. The next move I'm afraid, is yours." He started his was back to his office to grab his things.

The detective nodded reluctantly and followed. "Well, I'm calling it a night." She looked at her watch and her eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Wow, It's almost eight." She'd been so caught up with avoiding her phone, and paperwork, and simply passing the time until Henry had something, that she hadn't even noticed how much time had passed. "You wouldn't want to grab a drink would you?"

Henry almost rolled his eyes as he finished packing his bag, and left the putting away of the body to a late night intern with a wave. "After what happened only a few nights ago? I've not been played like that in a very long time, I don't intend on letting it happen again."

"Just me, Henry, no Lucas, I promise."

He looked at her for a moment, and countered her offer with one of his own. "Perhaps you would like to join me at the shop for a few hours? Abe's out for the evening, you can give me that talking to you promised Lucas; and I might even feel comfortable enough to consume alcohol." He smirked.

"Sure." She agreed easily, "But how did you-?" she hadn't told him about Lucas' request, and she was sure that the assistant M.E. wouldn't have either, so unless Henry could read minds… she tilted her head, confused.

"It takes exactly twelve and a half minutes for Lucas to grab one of his ridiculous coffees from your break room." He explained. "Today it took him twenty-four, and his demeanour upon his return was, how should I put it… reassured? I wasn't completely sure, but it wasn't too big a leap to connect the dots."

She raised her eyebrows. "Of course you did. Why am I even surprised anymore?"

Henry shrugged, it wasn't a question he could answer.

As they approached the car, he sped up slightly to be able to open the door for her. "Hey, wait a minute," Jo stopped, studying Henry's face. "You're just inviting me over because you want a ride home!" Jo accused good-naturedly.

The thought actually hadn't crossed his mind, but it wasn't a bad one. "You got me, Detective," he said sarcastically, " I'm not in the mood for calling a cab tonight; the only solution was to invite you over and ride along." He smiled playfully "Are you going to refuse to let me come?"

"Get in." Jo rolled her eyes.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Henry had opened a bottle of wine for them, and had some leftover Lasagna re-heating in the oven. Usually he wouldn't have resorted to such means of nourishment for company, but he wasn't particularly hungry, and Jo had insisted that she really didn't mind. (Apparently Abe's lasagna was a new favourite of hers.

"I feel I must warn you," he said as he placed the plates on the table, "That this dish is nowhere near as delicious after having been re-heated."

Jo took a bite and rolled her eyes. "You're such a food snob."

"Such degrading remarks simply because I prefer to enjoy my food?"

"This is just as good, if not better than the last time I had it." Jo announced, and now it was Henry's turn to roll his eyes. "Please tell Abe I enjoyed it?"

He gave a small smile. "I shall pass along your message, but don't think for a moment that it means I agree with you. Dinners are meant to be full of flavour, prepared fresh, with several courses…" he sighed. "How I miss the days when a meal was given the respect it deserves."

"You have a strange way of saying things, you know that, right?"

He shrugged slightly. "Just put it down to me having been raised in England, and there being cultural differences." He winked, and took a small sip of his wine.

The rest of the meal was spent talking about their current case, or rather, one of them.

"Our victim was a low risk target. School teacher actually, grade seven art and drama. Steady boyfriend, no issues at work, a decent apartment in a reputable neighborhood. She's not one of those Yoga-Latte girls either; She took self-defense at a club just down the block.-"

Henry was nodding, "And the state of her organs indicated her caffeine of choice was a simple black tea- Earl Grey, in fact."

"You see? Nothing about her stands out at all, no conflicts in her life, she hadn't been anywhere unusual lately, until all of a sudden she's gutted and lying in an alley halfway across the city."

"I'm afraid I don't have much of value to add" Henry admitted. "I can tell you that from the state of her shoes, she certainly didn't walk there. Those heels weren't exactly high end, and there were no sores on the soles of her feet. That's all I have though. It's a thrill, to be working on such a perplexing case, but rather humbling as well. I'm not used to finding nothing but crumbs." He attacked the food on his plate in a display of frustration.

They were both silent for a few moments as they continued to eat, neither bothered at all by their topic of conversation.

"So how did you get your hands on the reports from the other cases? I noticed, when I met you down in the morgue earlier, that your desk was covered with them, and I know that the lieutenant's being stonewalled."

"Ahh yes, I was getting Lucas to look over them, familiarize himself with the details. I wanted to ensure that we didn't miss anything with our newest victim."

"Still haven't answered the question."

"I have my methods." He answered mysteriously, to which Jo only stared more pointedly. He sighed. "If you must know, Guam is much closer to Japan than we are. I have contacts on the island, and a case of that magnitude doesn't just go unnoticed."

"Ahh, yes, your place of education. A strange choice."

For a medical examiner, or a doctor, it was actually a respectable place to receive an education; although Henry wasn't sure if he really would have attended there, given the choice. What Guam was though, was somewhere no one would know him from.

"I was looking to explore, go somewhere unique" he lied. It wasn't that he'd never been to the island, but he had never been as a med-student.

"And was it?"

"Unique? Not as much as one would think. Although its history can be an interesting subject. First colonized by Spain, surrendered to the Americans in 1898, only to be seized by the Japanese hours after they decimated Pearl Harbour. It was three hard years later when your American troops would claim it back."

Jo nodded slowly, trying to feign fascination "Un huh. Wow."

"I'm sorry Jo, I'm boring you!" he shook his head in admonishment and stood, clearing the now empty plates. "Abe always says that I need to socialize more, clearly he's right. Look at what a terrible host I make, I'm sorry." He apologized. At work he could joke all he wanted about learning, but in his home, it was rude to go off like that with guests over.

"No, not a terrible host, although maybe your small talk skills could use some polishing."

"Desert?" he asked her, before responding to her statement. "After a while, there is only so much small talk one can make. It becomes tedious and tiresome. I gave up trying to keep up with it years ago."

Jo shook her head. "Thanks, but I'm full. And here I always took you for a patient man."

"More so than you might think" Henry commented as he sat once more.

"Must be, because if you are already tired of small talk…" Jo's comment was laced with sarcasm, and Henry could tell she was digging, just a little bit.

He sat slowly, and twirled the glass on the table between his fingers. He elected to give her the most honest answer he could. "There wasn't need of small talk until recently."

"Abigail." Jo breathed, and he nodded. It wasn't what Jo had intended to dig up, but she wasn't about to put a stop to the conversation.

And so they came to it, without even having meant to; they'd broached the subject of the other evening's discussions.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Jo tried to approach the matter gently. It was sooner than she'd intended; but they'd already avoided it all the way through their meal, and there really was no use putting it off any further. It was the real reason that they were here, after all.

"Not especially." Henry rested back into his chair, and stared at the table in front of him, now empty but for their original wineglasses; his was barely touched. Jo's expression was kind, but concerned, and he hated and appreciated it at the same time. He knew she meant well.

"Lucas isn't just worried about what his imagination has cooked up as a fitting pay-back for what he did; he's worried about you, too."

"He needn't be, I'm fit as can be expected. He has better things to worry about. This morning, for example, he tried to start work without his gloves on. As much as I can understand living 'on the edge' as they say, that mistake is just foolishly tempting fate."

She shot him a doubtful glance, choosing to ignore most of what he had said about Lucas "What about you, tempting fate? You said some odd things that night. Do you remember anything?"

Henry settled down into his chair and started to build up an emotional wall as he realized she wasn't going to let this go. "Bits and pieces." he said. He remembered Abe saving him from telling Jo everything, when she brought him home; he remembered telling a story about Abigail without naming her -although he realized now Jo had made the connection. He remembered talking about death, a lot, before she'd been able to steer the conversation in a different direction.

"Is it tomorrow?" she asked, "or the day after?"

"After" he muttered. He knew immediately what she was talking about, it was what he had been trying so hard to avoid thinking about. His heart clenched. Abigail's birthday. It had snuck up on him, and now he found himself lost. He imagined that that was the main reason Abe was out; he was trying to not be reminded so much of her absence.

Jo reached out a hand to grasp his in a comforting gesture. "Lucas really picked the worst of times to try to get information out of you, didn't he?

Henry's mouth pulled into a humourless wry smile and his eyebrows raised. "It certainly wasn't one of the best times" he commented. "I could have done without it. However, there is the fortunate side effect that he's not likely to try it again."

Jo smiled gently. "True."

Both were reluctant to say anything more, and it was eventually Jo, who broke the silence. "Do you want work to distract you, or a friend to talk to? I can take the day off, if it will help."

Henry shook his head almost imperceptibly. "I've got Abe, he'll be here."

She winced, not sure if spending the day with Abe was best. "I have a feeling that Abe only reminds you of her more though; he must have been a friend of hers."

Henry nodded; it was as close to the truth as he could allow. "The very best".

"I've found that sometimes you just need to get away, from everything." Jo said, "If you change your mind, give me a call, alright?" He nodded, doubting that he ever would, but appreciating the sentiment.

They sat in silence for another few minutes, both looking for a better subject and failing to find anything. Henry began to survey what he could see of the shop, spotting a chair[,] and a lamp that he had gotten years ago. Eventually the silence seemed so endless that Jo just asked the question that had been on her mind since the alcohol incident, be damned the topic. "So you have a son?"

Henry looked up in alarm. Had he told? No, no, he couldn't have, and if he had, no one would have believed him, right? Who in their right mind could believe that Abe was his son?

"Wow, so that surprised you, I'm guessing that's one of the things you don't remember." Jo took a sip of her wine, a little nervous now that the subject clearly made him so uneasy.

"To say the least." Henry was loath to say more without knowing exactly what she already knew.

"I've heard you tell the parents of victims that you have no children; and there's nothing in your file about a son. What happened?"

Henry exhaled in relief. So even drunk, he could keep his head, when it counted. "It's complicated." He offered as his only response. She wasn't likely to get much more out of him.

"Was Abigail his mother? Or your first wife?"

"Abigail." He said quickly before he could stop himself, and maybe he shouldn't have, but he didn't regret it. Even if Jo didn't know who his son was, he'd never want anyone to have the impression that anyone but Abigail was Abe's mother. "I'd prefer not to discuss this, please Detective?"

"Yeah, sure." He'd called her Detective again, rather than Jo, and there was pain in his eyes that she didn't see very often. It worried her that if she pushed any further, he would break.

"I'm not a fragile object, Detective, there are simply subjects that I do not wish to visit at this time. You have them as well." Henry pointed out

"True again." She looked with wonder at him, the calm and confident demeanour he maintained through it all. "Henry, you surprise me every step of the way. How do you keep it all in check?"

"Time heals" he lied. Time didn't heal, it just taught you how to handle the pain, how to block it out. When you remembered, it was as fresh as if the incident had just occurred. Maybe it wasn't that way for everyone, but it was for him.

"Does it?" she questioned him, and he almost had to pinch himself to be sure that he wasn't hallucinating, and that she wasn't a construct of his mind.

"I don't know what you mean," he said.

"You talked a lot about death Henry, different forms, ways to die. Thoughts of how you want to die, when it happens."

Henry was sipping his wine as she spoke, and nearly snorted the beverage at the laughable nature of her comments, and then tried to push down the glimmer of hope that couldn't help but spark in his chest at the thought of seeing Abigail again.

She didn't notice. "Henry, are you alright? You're not going to go, kill yourself, are you? I know the loss of Abigail is hard on you, and it especially must be worse around this time of year, but you do know that you have people who care, don't you?" She studied his face; looking for any of the markers they taught them about in the required psyche crash course. Henry was an odd man though, and she couldn't be sure if the things she saw were signs or just his eccentricities. "You already have zero self preservation instincts in the field, I don't need you actively trying to kill yourself at home as well."

If only she knew. Henry once again smiled without joy. "Don't worry, Detective, I will not be leaving the employment of the good force anytime soon."

"You better not, I like having you around." He chuckled softly at her comment. "I mean it. You're a damn good M.E."

"Well, I'm glad my years of experience are being put to use where they are appreciated."

She shook her head "No, not just appreciated, needed. Henry, the force appreciates the job you do, I need it. It worries me that at the point where you were the most honest, you, _my friend,_ decided to tell us all a funny story about his dead wife and unknown child, and then proceed to discuss the best ways to die."

"Ahh, I remember that part. You tried your best to guide the conversation in another direction, correct?"

She nodded. "After that you were much more… light hearted might be the right phrase; but that doesn't change what you said."

Henry sighed. Apparently more damage control was necessary than he'd first thought. "I won't be going anywhere anytime soon, Detective, I can assure you. I enjoy the work I do with you, and I value the time I get to spend with Abe far too much to have any rash thoughts of suicide."

Jo nodded reluctantly. After a few moments of silence she spoke softly. "You're not ready yet, are you."

"Ready for what?" he asked, slightly confused.

"Ready to let me in."

"Ahh." he whispered. "Not, not quite yet."

Jo nodded understandingly, "Well, I'll be here, when you are"

"I appreciate your patience." He took a deep breath. "As I appreciate the efforts you made that evening to- minimize any damage I may have done."

"What are partners for? If I let you dig yourself too deep, I might fall in too." she smirked. " I couldn't risk that."

He laughed as they found their way into lighter discussion topics once again. "Between you, and Abe…" he started,

Jo leant back, arms crossed, and waited for him to finish his thought.

"I'm never going to ride my bike again am I?" he asked

Jo laughed "We'll see."

* * *

A/N:: the bike comment was referring to fact that in the last few episodes we found out that Abe kinda, well, took away his bike because he was late for dinner too often. XD


	4. LSD

A/N:: Hello! So this chapter starts with a little bit of feels, contains a few Henry-style history remarks, and ends with plot building and progression. Let me know what you think!

The reviews make me so happy guys! XD Thank you so much for the support!

Warnings:: mentions of suicide, drug, and alcohol abuse.

I do not own the characters, i do own the mess here that they're staring in. All for my own enjoyment, and hopefully the enjoyment of others

* * *

Henry woke up to the smell of waffles. He'd fallen asleep before Abraham had gotten home, and the smell that saturated their loft gave him such a reassuring feeling of home.

He walked into the kitchen with his nose in the air, and a smile on his face. "Oh, Abe, you always know what I need to put me in a good mood. That smells wonderful."

"Well, when I saw that my lunch leftovers were gone, I figured a decent breakfast was in order."

"Oh, you were raised well" Henry winked at his son.

"What can I say?" Abe shrugged with a smile, and dropped two plates onto the table. "Grab the juice from the fridge, would you?"

Henry smiled. "But of course!" With one hand he grabbed the jug, and with the other two glasses. "How was your evening?" he asked as they sat down to eat.

"Oh, you know, same old" Abe said nonchalantly, "Dinner, some dancing -may have pulled a muscle," he shook his leg in a funny movement, "not sure yet"

"Abraham." Henry reprimanded. "Should I take a look at it?"

"Nahh, I'll be fine, I know the routine by now."

Henry smiled softly "Alright." He set down his utensils, and took the opportunity to look at his son, trying to really see how he was doing.

"You're doing it again" Abe commented through a bite of waffle.

"Doing what?" Henry feigned innocence, and proceeded to spoon some blueberries onto his plate.

"Staring at me with your sad eyes. You know I hate it, when you do that."

"I'm sorry, Abe," he said gently, "I was just thinking of your mother."

"Ahh. Right." Abe knew where this was headed, and he wasn't sure if he wanted it to go there or not.

"Did it help?" Henry asked. "The evening out, drinking, dancing; all of it?"

"Nope". Abe waited, but when Henry said nothing else it was his turn. "What about your talk with Jo?"

Henry tilted his head in surprise.

"Oh, come one, there were two wine glasses set to dry on the counter. You're not the only one, who can be observant if they want."

"Of course not, I'm sorry." He took a breath, and a moment to decide what to say.

"No, it didn't help. Nothing ever does, and I doubt that anything ever really will."

Abe unknowingly mirrored Jo's action from the night before, reaching forward to place his hand on Henry's in a comforting gesture. Henry flipped his hand over so that he could give Abe's fingers a tight squeeze.

"Shop's closed tomorrow, I was planning on visiting the pond in central park in the morning. You wanna come along?" Abe spoke with no emotion, as if his words were a part of the daily interactions of a father and son, and Henry looked up, startled.

Neither of them knew where Abigail was right now, and the pond was the best they could do as a place to go and remember her. Henry wasn't sure if she was alive or dead, and that in itself hurt, because if she were alive, he'd just like to know. To visit her one last time would be a precious gift, but just knowing would be more than enough.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"I like it here," she admitted softly.

"Here?" He looked out at the pond he'd emerged from half an hour earlier with trepidation in his eyes.

"Yes here, silly." She giggled "This is where you come back to me." Abigail tried to explain. "The water takes care of you, if anything goes wrong, and it spits you back out. It gives you life, my love, and so how can I not love it?"

They stood arm in arm, looking out over the water, and Abigail rested her head on Henry's shoulder. "You just keep coming back, and I'll keep watching for you, how does that sound?"

"That's a deal I am happy to make." He smiled, and turned to press a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Henry shook his head. "I've got plenty to keep me busy at the morgue."

"Dad" Abe said softly.

Henry looked his son in the eyes, those big blue eyes that never lost their wonder when looking at the world, and stood guiltily, clearing his barely touched plate.

"I'll take a cab home; don't wait up for me." He threw out as a side remark, not wanting Abe to worry that evening, but also not knowing what else to say just then.

As Henry made his way to the front of the store to leave for the day, Abe called out.

"Dad?" he asked, and he glanced over with understanding that could only come from years of companionship and shared pain.

Henry paused as he reached out to open the door. Turning his head, his heart melted slightly. What a man their son had become.

"Love you."

Henry closed his eyes, a painful smile on his lips. "I love you too Abe."

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Jo was already in the morgue when Henry arrived, and she found herself staring, trying to figure out his mood after last night's conversations.

Apparently, he caught her at it.

"Detective? Did I forget my scarf today?" He did a little spin, looking himself over and allowing her to do the same. When he found nothing wrong, he stopped and looked at Jo, searching for an explanation.

"No, no, I just-"

"I can assure you, Detective, my work will not be impacted by any of the recent or upcoming events."

"Well that's good I guess, but Henry." She paused, "you know me better than that." Jo was a bit hurt to think that he thought that little of her.

"I'm sorry, you're right." He sighed and looked down momentarily.

"Are you-"

"I'm fine." Henry said tiredly. What he wanted to do most right now was get to work, and forget about any other events. His eyes met hers for a long moment, and begged her to let it go. "Really, Jo."

She relented with a sigh. "Fine." Raising a hand, she waved in the direction of her office. "I'll be back around lunch, unless you call me earlier, and if you do-" she patted her pocket, "call my cell. I'll be in the precinct, avoiding my desk phone."

Henry smirked.

"Very well-"

"Wait!" Lucas exclaimed as he walked into the room, having only just caught the end of their conversation.

Jo tilted her head. "Do you have something for me, Lucas?"

Lucas bobbed his head. "Actually, yes, Detective." He flashed her a sheepish grin, not moving, just looking at Jo, fidgeting with a tablet in his hands.

"Lucas?" Henry prompted.

"Right!" The assistant tried to pull himself back on track. Jo rolled her eyes, and Henry mouthed a silent 'sorry' in her direction. He really needed to have a talk with his assistant concerning proper workplace behaviour. She shook her head, waving it off.

Lucas spoke with slight chagrin. "So the evidence lab apparently had a special request from the Commissioner to rush everything to do with the case, so we've got some stuff back-"

"Our dear stabbing victim?"

Lucas nodded vigorously "Turns out she had a hallucinogen in her system."

Henry frowned. "And with her prescription for Estazolam, I'm guessing…" Henry held out his hand, and Lucas handed over the tablet without a word. As he looked over the data he nodded. "I thought it might be."

Lucas grabbed a jar from the table beside them. "I thought I'd go and see if we can find more of it in her stomach contents?" Lucas said, and Henry waved him on.

"It's doubtful, but I appreciate the initiative." Still looking at the tablet, Henry felt a slight sense of pride in human accomplishments. "My goodness, the labs are getting better at this. There was a time when it wasn't possible to detect quantities a hundred times this size, let alone this amount."

"Science, right?" Lucas shrugged, as though that explained everything.

Henry agreed with a wry smile. "It certainly has its moments." He wondered for a fraction of a second what Lucas might say if he knew about the scientific impossibility he was working with, and decided that his love of all that was strange wouldn't be a particularly bad thing, in fact, he'd likely be the easiest to convince without witnessing a death.

Jo looked back and forth between them, but it appeared as though in the midst of whatever their discovery was, they'd forgotten about her.

"Are they sure about these readings?" Henry asked, focusing on the case at hand.

"I called them to check, and talked to two different technicians. They both said the same thing. Yes."

"Interesting."

"Henry?" Jo asked, a little exasperated.

"Detective," he said as a means of answering, "did the victim's family report her to ever have violent mood swings, or perhaps that she might have been seeing things that weren't there?"

Jo shook her head, "Not at all. Was she tripping?"

Henry winced at the term. "Oh, absolutely. If it's true she was displaying none of the symptoms, it becomes a fascinating case."

Jo gave him a blank stare, and he settled down for an explanation. "Lysergic Acid Diethylamide, better known by the acronym from the German translation as LSD." He paused. "That always bothered me, because it was actually first synthesized in 1938 Switzerland, not Germany, by a charming young Doctor Hofmann."

Jo shot him a look.

"-or so I've heard." He added quickly.

Jo rolled her eyes and nodded, choosing to once again ignore his anecdotes and concentrate on what mattered. "LSD. Easy to get, cheap, not usually life threatening…"

"Correct. Those who use it regularly can build up a tolerance relatively fast, which limits or completely nullifies the effects of the chemical for several days. The tolerance is lost however at nearly the same rate. Our victim here," he used his thumb to point behind him, "has an elevated level of LSD in her system, especially considering how short a half life this chemical has; and that she wasn't displaying any of the traditional symptoms."

"So you're wondering how come no one noticed she was high?"

Henry shrugged and nodded. "Yes." He answered bluntly. "The levels in her system are dangerously raised, and yet," he raised a finger, "her body shows no ill effects from it, -which is not unheard of, but rare, and her family apparently noticed nothing."

Jo bit her lip; she didn't like the sound of this.

"To me that indicates a very slow introduction to her system, over a long period of time." Henry finished. "How long?"

"Almost a year," the Detectives eyes widened, "at least once a day."

Jo exhaled slowly, taking in all the information. "See, that doesn't make any sense, why would she-"

"I don't believe she did, Detective. I think someone did this to her," he paused, looking at Jo for a moment, "and so do you."

He was right, of course, he nearly always was, but that didn't change much. "Maybe," she allowed, "but I'm not the M.E with an encyclopedia's worth of knowledge in my head."

"You flatter me, Detective" Henry said, but shrugged. His reasoning was a mix of both experience and instinct- and the fact that it made much more sense than the victim dosing herself with a hallucinogen, yet never actually enjoying the effects. "Let's call it an educated guess?"

"A hunch?"

"A hunch." He confirmed.

Jo nodded; that should fly, she could investigate hunches. Even the lieutenant had come to trust Henry's.

"The killer would have had to experiment a little with the drug, there is no surefire way to tell how someone will react; so our victim very likely had a nasty week or so about a year ago."

"But why drug her? It clearly wasn't to terrify her with thoughts of insanity, or force her to be admitted to the nearest psyche ward."

"I think they did it, just because they could. To show that they could."

"Well that's just creepy."

"Yes," he agreed wholeheartedly, "It is."

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"We really don't have much to work with, do we?"

"I'm afraid not." Henry walked behind her as they climbed the stairs. "Before you asked me to come with you, I was looking over the rest of the evidence that we got from the lab. There were latex particles in several of the wounds, but all that really tells us, is that the killer planned ahead. I had hope for a few hairs that Lucas found on the victim's shirt, but it turns out that they belong to her boyfriend." He sighed. "Another dead end."

The two of them were on their way just then to talk to the mother of the victim, regardless of the fact that Hanson had spoken to her the day before. After that morning's discovery, there were more questions that needed answering.

"Well then, let's see what more we can learn from the mother." Jo stepped forward to knock on the door; her shield in her hand.

"You know, I much preferred what was here before" he waved at the complex around them, another image superimposed in his mind from memory.

Jo rolled her eyes back, not even surprised. "You're going to have to show me these photographs of New York architecture through the ages." She smirked at him, "They must be something special."

"I'm afraid I don't have any photographs, I mostly work with firsthand accounts."

The door in front of them opened, and Henry spoke to allow Jo a moment to remove the bewilderment from her face.

"Hello. I'm Dr. Morgan, this is my partner Detective Martinez." He glanced at Jo as she held out her badge.

"NYPD. We're so sorry for your loss."

A woman stood in front of them, eyes red, hair spilling from its ties. Henry saw no attempt at cleaning herself up for a good day at least, and the tremors in her hand were perhaps the sign of something more.

"Yeah, well…" She looked around awkwardly "Thanks, I guess?"

Jo grimaced. "There are a few more things we'd like to ask you," she said gently, "would you mind if we came inside?"

Mrs. Catter stared at them for a few moments, then nodded slowly, not moving from her position.

Jo looked at Henry in confusion, and he shrugged.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Catter? Was that a yes, you do mind, or a yes, come in?"

Once again she nodded. Jo sighed.

Henry put his hand on her shaking wrist to still it, attempting to convey his condolences, and the need for her help in a simple action. "Mrs. Catter, we know that nothing we can say will help you through this time, but there is a chance that something you might say will help us. Please, may we come in?"

The physical contact seemed to snap her out of it, and as she shook her head to clear it, she stepped aside to allow them entrance. "Oh, I'm sorry, of course, please, anythin' I can do to help."

She led them to a small sitting room, but no one sat. Jo started asking questions as Henry took a full inventory of the room, noting among other things the fish tank in the corner, the white plastic lid on the dresser, and the overwhelming smell of chicken that filed the apartment.

"Mrs. Catter, did your daughter have a history of drug abuse?" Jo asked kindly.

"No. No, no, no. My daughter would never!" Mrs. Catter protested "I raised her better."

Henry was looking through a photo book that had been on a side table. "But she was rather fond of the spirits for a while wasn't she?"

"Well, that-" she sputtered, and fell onto the couch behind her. "That's all over now. Maybe she had a bit of a rough patch a year ago, but that's over, too. She's clean!" She swallowed thickly. "She was clean." Mrs. Catter grabbed a handful of tissues and brought them to her face, dabbing at her eyes and nose.

Henry shot a meaningful look over her head at Jo, who grimaced. He'd been right.

"You're correct." Henry said, "There was no trace of alcohol in her system. She obviously knew better, alcohol with the sleeping pills she was taking would have been disasterous."

Mrs. Catter glanced at the white lid guiltily for a fraction of a second, before turning to face Henry. "She was a good girl. About to be engaged, too!"

"Wait what?" Jo stepped forwards, this was the first she'd head of it.

The mother nodded. "Jimmy came to me night before-before." She took a deep breath and blew her nose. "He was askin' my permission, seein' that she doesn't care what her father thinks."

"Why didn't you tell Detective Hanson about this yesterday?"

Mrs. Catter shrugged. "I can't remember. Didn't seem important"

"Mrs. Catter," Henry directed her attention towards him, "Is there any possibility that she would have said no?"

"Absolutely not. Never. They loved each other so much, I'm surprised it took him this long to decide to ask."

Henry nodded "Very well. We should be going; however…" Henry went over to the tank, and opened up the cabinet underneath it, sighing in relief. "Oh good."

"Henry?" Jo asked for clarification.

"Activated Carbon. Mrs. Catter is going to need it when the rest of those pills take effect." Pouring a substance that looked like sand into a small baggie he'd grabbed from inside his coat, he handed it to Mrs. Catter. "I'd consume this as quickly as you can. Jo, if you could call for an ambulance, please?" Both women stared at him.

"You want me to- to eat this?" The mother looked at him doubtfully.

"Yes, and quickly if you want to live," he exclaimed, "As much as I know that life can be difficult-" He could feel Jo's stare on the back of his head "-Death is no better. Live for your other children, they need you."

She nodded slowly.

Henry turned to face Jo, and as she brought her cell up her ear, she shot him a look. "You see? This is why you need your own cell phone."

"Really, Detective? Now?"

She shrugged and smirked at him, before turning away to talk with 911 dispatch.

oOoOoOoOoOoOo

"So how did you know?"

"That she'd overdosed on her daughter's sleeping medication? Nothing too complicated. Her trouble remembering things, delayed reactions, a slowed pulse, tremor in her extremities." He shrugged. "As soon as we entered the house and I saw the prescription lid with no bottle I knew."

"And you waited that long to say anything?"

"I knew there was ample time. I've seen this drug before, there is almost an hour before it takes effect. Besides that, I'm a physician, I would never endanger someone's life."

"Besides your own."

"That's another matter entirely."

Jo sighed. "Of course it is." She pulled the car into an open spot, and parked.

"Did we have another stop to make?"

"Lunch."

Henry raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"I'm buying, but you have to try it. Please?" She asked.

Henry groaned.

* * *

A/N:: So I did quite a bit of research on LSD, and Estazolam, but there are events and effects here of the chemicals that are unrealistic, so please don't use this as a point of reference if you are thinking about using one or the other. Stay safe guys XOX


	5. Telephones

A/N:: I'm sorry about how long it took me to get this up, but you know, Christmas. :D Merry Christmas Everyone! Happy Holidays!

On that note, because I found that when i don't update quickly i feel incredibly guilty, (I've been on the other end, haven't we all?) I've created a Tumblr page where i can give a sort of update on how a chapter is coming, etc. if you're interested, I'll also post links to the story there. URL is foreveroversights over on tumblr

The follows and favourites and reviews are amazing, keep them coming please! I love hearing what you guys have to say, and every email i get makes my day that much better!

As always, I own nothing but a mess of letters in this specific order. XD

Also, just a note, Hanson wasn't at the bar when Henry got a little tipsy.

* * *

"So?" Jo asked, slightly nervous

She'd brought him to her favourite Italian place; small, but as good as they got in her opinion.

Henry tilted his head back and forth, trying to decide how to answer. How could he tell her that the meal was actually quite good, although not as good as Abe's Italian cooking, and certainly not as good as the Pasta alla Norma he'd had in 1835 in Catania, Sicily.

Most of all, how could he admit that it wasn't a total embarrassment to the art of cuisine, given his previous proclamations?

"I will admit, it's quite good-"

"but…?" Jo prompted

"You always assume the worst Detective-"

"That's my job."

"You needn't always. It was a very enjoyable meal. Thank you."

She sighed. "But you wouldn't come back, would you?"

Henry grimaced. "If the moment called for it, I suppose I would"

Jo squinted at him. She could hear the hesitance in his voice, and put it down to his stubbornness

If only she knew how right she really was.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Henry popped his head around the corner, catching sight of a frustrated Jo hanging her head as her desk phone rang, again.

Over lunch, she'd mentioned a tad more about her phone problem. At first it had just been a small university paper with one of their students who had happened to be the one to find the body. When she refused to answer any questions, someone had apparently thought that maybe she would talk to a bigger paper. Within a day, every paper across the city had her number, and the lieutenant wasn't willing to change the number just quite yet. There were too many numbers to block, even if she was allowed to, and so she had to either answer them, or let them ring to voicemail. Henry watched as she rubbed a throbbing temple.

"It's times like these that I wish for the Telegraph again. They were much more civilized, and much more _silent_."

"Like you've ever sent a telegraph." Jo said without thinking. "Ignore that, of course you have. It's so _Henry_."

Henry's shoulders straightened slightly, and he had a proud sort of smirk across his face. "Why thank you Detective." He would take that compliment any day. "Telegrams were simply a more reliable form of communication. You had to be aware of exactly what you wanted to say, and how you wanted to say it. There were few misunderstandings due to hasty arguments over a distance, when everything was contemplated and written down with precision."

"Henry, I'm at the point where if you could convince the lieutenant to get rid of the noise, no matter how, I'd be all for it. God I wish this thing had a mute button." It was an older phone, with no volume control, let alone a mute button.

Henry circled her desk, and a cheeky look snuck into his eyes. "Detective, may I ask, does the lieutenant not have your cell phone number?"

Jo nodded slowly. "Yeah of course. Your point?"

"And Detective Hanson obviously has it?

"Your point, Henry?" Jo was at the end of her rope as it was; she didn't have the patience to put up with Henry's everlasting need to be mysterious.

In response, Henry simply walked over and pulled the phone jack from the wall.

Jo sighed immediately in relief as the phone muted mid ring, and she couldn't help but smile a little. "You know I can get in shit for that, right?"

He looked up at her innocently. "In my experience with your lieutenant Detective, something that you had no hand in, and have no knowledge of, can hardly be your fault.

"So, you're saying that I don't know about that little stunt you just pulled?"

"I'm sorry Detective, I haven't any idea what you're talking about."

She rolled her eyes, but made no move to fix the previously incessantly ringing phone. "So what brings you up here to the land of the living?"

"A lack of success, not of effort." He winced at the unintentional truth.

She shot him a confused look.

"By which," he added, " I mean that our car accident victim from 21st and 110th didn't commit suicide, but in fact came about their demise quite accidentally. All of the signs point to a suicide collision with a telephone pole. The distancing from his relations, signs of self-harm and malnutrition, even the goodbye letter we found. However," He held a finger up, "the victim showed signs of recent recovery, wounds were healing, and he was beginning to put on more weight. As well, upon further analysis, Lucas found the letter to be several months old. It's quite tragic, to think that someone so on their way to achieving a better mental state ended outside my office."

"So what did happen?"

"When investigating the car, I do believe you will find that the break line is likely corroded through."

"How on earth could you know that? Henry, I know you're good, but you haven't even seen the car yet. Not to mention it was Lucas at the crime scene"

Henry tilted his head. "It's true, he's not as quick as I, and I will admit he _is_ getting slightly better at the on hand observation. The only reason that I was not there, was out lunch date I will remind you. Fortunately for us though, he takes meticulous pictures."

"Ah."

"Upon primary investigation, all the facts correlate with this cause of death. The victim had a sticky residue that I suspect is duct tape on his fingertips, there was break fluid under his nails; as well as traces of iron oxide. It appears that he attempted to tape the brake line back together while on his way to a service center. There is one only several blocks from the crash location, that happens to specialize in his model of car."

"So not murder?"

"Check the car to be sure the line wasn't cut, but I severely doubt it. As well, we are still waiting for the toxicology report back from the lab, and you are as aware as I, how slow they can be."

Jo's eyes widened. "Alright then, I'll go tell the lieutenant, and-"

Her cell beeped in her pocket, and as she glanced at the screen she smiled.

"We finally found the fiancée to be; Hanson's bringing him in on a theft, so we get to do this interview in the big room. I'm assuming you want to watch?"

"I would love to."

"Thought so. They'll be here in 30, if you can fit it into your schedule…"

Henry smiled, and nodded slightly."I will see you in half an hour"

oOoOoOoOoOo

Hanson greeted them in the observation room half an hour later with a nod. "Took us long enough to find him, that's for sure. It was our good old guards at the airport who eventually snagged him. They called us when his passport flashed."

"We'd flagged him?" Jo asked skeptically

"Someone else, actually." Hanson replied

"The Robbery Division no doubt." Henry supplied correctly, and Hanson nodded. "The way he's fidgeting with those handcuffs," Henry continued, "It's clear that he knows how to break out of them. He likely even has picks on him…"

"I know procedure, Doctor." Hanson sighed; he was no rookie. "Pockets were emptied..."

Henry tilted his head, and spoke again, ignoring him. "Judging by the way his left sleeve is hanging slightly lower than the right, I'd wager they're sewn into his cuff."

"Are you serious?" he turned to Jo, "Is he serious?"

"I have no reason to lie detective."

"You're doing this just to bug me aren't you?"

Henry shrugged, and couldn't quite hide what Jo believed to be a hint of a smirk at the edge of his mouth.

She sighed. "Boys. Please, stay on task? What did he steal."

"The ring." They said simultaneously, and Hanson stared in bewilderment. Henry pretended to not notice.

Jo rolled her eyes, and after a long moment she nudged her partner, urging him to continue so that they could talk to the poor man fidgeting in the room next door.

"Right." Clearing his throat, he picked up where he'd left off. "Turns out he had big plans," Hanson continued "Vegas, then Paris, and a trip around the world. "She'd 'a been a lucky girl."

"Who married a thief." Jo supplied, pointing out the obvious downside.

"Well, yeah." Hanson allowed. "Had a quick peek through his phone call log, he hadn't called, texted or emailed her since before he want to talk to the mother. He did get a call from an anonymous number though, only half an hour after the mother said that they talked."

"And there was no further communication between the victim and her boyfriend?" Henry asked.

"Not electronically at least. The only person who can really tell us if they spoke," he pointed with his thumb, "Is in that room."

"Shall we ask him a few pointed questions then?" Jo made her way towards the interrogation room door, and Hanson followed.

"Oh, Henry?" Jo stopped just before leaving, letting Hanson skirt around her.

He tilted his head. "Detective?" he prompted

"Try to keep the interrogating through me, to a minimum?"

Henry flashed her a cheeky smile. She rolled her eyes, and joined Hanson in the other room; at the same time patting her pocket to be sure she had her phone on her.

They both knew that if there was really something he would like to know, he'd find a way. She'd rather that way, was her way.

oOoOoOoOoOo

James sat facing the mirror, allowing Henry an excellent view, and he watched as Jo made her way across the room to lean against the far wall, opposite the door. Henry wasn't sure if she realized it or not, but it almost seemed as if she was taking a position so that she wouldn't be in his line of sight. He smiled slightly.

"James Phelan?" Hanson asked, shuffling not one, but several folders in his hands.

"It's 'Fey'-'lan', not 'Felon'." James rolled his eyes. "I didn't realize that cops were getting so dumb."

"Yeah, but, you've got to admit, it has a nice 'ring' to it." Jo stared at James, daring him to call her out on it, and then turned to Hanson. "Don't you think?" she asked.

Hanson nodded slowly. "Felon, yep, it's got a real nice 'ring' to it."

"Real subtle guys." Jimmy rolled his eyes.

"Oh really? And why is that." Hanson started chatting.

"I think it's because of that huge rock security found on him"

"Well, yeah, a rock like that, did you see how big it was?" Hanson held up his hand and approximated a size. "Wait, I can do better." He pulled out a photo from one of the files and held it out for her to see.

"Wow!" Jo's eyebrows raised in fake awe. "You realize something like that, that's not just petty theft.

Hanson shrugged. "Up to ten years, if I'm not mistaken"

Jo whistled sympathetically. "A guy like you getting prison time, just for trying to tell a girl you loved her." She sighed. "I wish it didn't have to do down like that."

"Yeah well, I've done this dance. That's all you want." James glared at one cop, then the other.

"Actually, now that you mention it…"

Hanson started to nod as Jo spoke. "Yeah, don't really care about that." He shrugged.

"What we want to talk about Jimmy," Jo said amicably, "is the girl you stole it for."

There was a moment or two of realization, and James' demeanor went from confident and collected, to concerned and uneasy.

"So you're not only dumb deadbeats, but you're homicide deadbeats." Behind his eyes was a sea of disgust, a hatred for cops- specifically homicide cops; that came from somewhere. Hanson opened the folder, and started to look over the contents.

"You mean the deadbeat who hasn't decided if she should tell her pal over in Robberies about the picks in your sleeve?" Jo took a risk, counting on Henry being right. Judging by how Jimmy's hands froze, and his eyes flicked nervously to the cuffs around his wrists, and consequentially his sleeve, Henry had been. He usually was.

"All right, _officers_" the word was laden with sarcasm; "I help you, and you help me, that's how it works, yes?"

Hanson spoke up. "I would have thought that you would want to help us. You know? To make sure her case gets closed, unlike your sister's?"

James rattled the cuffs pulling them back towards himself suddenly, as he shot Hanson an accusatory look. "It was your department, your people, YOUR FAULT! Her murderer, still roaming the streets? YOUR FAULT!" he shook his head as he leant back in the chair, his voice lowering slightly. "Not mine"

On the other side of the mirror, Henry muttered to himself. "Someone's feeling guilty." He caught his hand just before he rapped on the glass. It could be discussed later; although interesting, perhaps even intriguing, it wasn't crucial at this moment. In the interrogation room, Henry watched Jo as she pulled a hand across her forehead to rub at her temple. She sighed.

"Jimmy. Really, is that how you're going to play this one? My partner makes a simple observation, and you decide to show intense anger towards him. That's not going to sound good when I talk with Sampson about those picks..."

"I'm regretting my decision to wave a lawyer"

Jo shrugged, and shot Hanson a meaningful look. Hanson stood. "You know what? I'm thirsty- you thirsty?" he asked James, "I'm gonna get us all a drink, I'll be right back" he continued speaking without waiting for a reply.

"I'm not going to need this" Jo stepped forwards and slid a file on the desk over.

Hanson furrowed his eyebrows in confusion for a split second, and Jo looked distractedly towards the mirror. Hanson shrugged, and grabbed the file as he left the room.

Hanson joined Henry in Observation, and it was obvious Henry had something on his mind. He was pacing back and forth, randomly stopping for a moment or two before walking again.

"You're not gonna zone out on me again are you? It's a little creepy when you do that."

"There's something odd about the way…" His eyes widened as he saw the file. "The sister's case…?" Henry prompted mysteriously and Hanson promptly gave him the folder cradled in his arm. Puzzle pieces clicked into place. "I think she knows you better than you think."

Henry leafed through the pages. "I very much doubt that."

"She has a lot of respect for you, you know"

"And I for her. She is a magnificent officer, and a lovely woman to work with."

Hanson said nothing for a moment or two, and then tried to prompt Henry into some sort of conversation. It concerned him that He knew so little about this man he worked with, and he, like everyone else, wanted to know more.

"I read your file you know-"

"Yes," Henry replied, and closed the file in annoyance. "It seems that reading about someone's private life is the 'thing to do' these days." He sighed, and re-opened the folder.

"There's not much to it you know,"

_That's the point_, Henry thought to himself.

"I don't see how you can be so secretive about so little."

Henry sighed, and envied Jo with her companion in the room over. The silence would be welcome.

"Detective, if I told you what I was being secretive about, it would no longer be a secret. In the past, I've found that secrets are usually kept for a reason, be it good or bad. Before you go digging into this any further, I implore you to consider what my reasoning might be. Now, if you don't mind, I would like to solve a case."

Hanson took a step back, a little offended, a little taken aback.

Henry stared intensely at a page, looking for something in particular.

Two minutes later, he was calling Jo's cell.

"I know who killed his sister."

"Henry." she sighed. "Well, It's not what I expected you to call about" Jo replied evenly, turning her head from the suspect and looking through the mirror

"His best friend was at the time of her murder, what colour was their baseball bat?"

"What?"

"Please Jo"

Jo sighed and pulled the phone away. "Jimmy, when your sister was killed, what colour was your best friend's baseball bat?"

"How am I supposed to remember that?"

"Blue or Red?" Supplied Henry.

"Blue or Red?" Jo asked her witness in turn.

"Blue I think… Why is this important?"

"Henry?" Jo asked into the phone, "Same question."

"There were paint chips in her head wound. The lab at the time was unable to analyze them for what they really are, and simply assumed that the paint got into the wound because of the dump site. A ridiculous assumption, and the M.E. should have known better, but there we have it. The paint, in fact, comes from a baseball bat, not one that was easy to find either. James' best friend's father was a baseball coach for a rather prominent team-"

"And had access to the bats."

"Correct", Henry replied. We know all of this because _he_ was looked at as a suspect-"

"But it was the son, not the father."

"Actually, both son's, if I'm correct about the wounds. There were two assailants with identical bats, rather than only one bat."

"Well, that should help." Jo nodded to herself. Even without having confirmation of the new facts, or confessions, James didn't know that.

"Detective, I'm afraid that isn't all."

She gave him a look through the mirror.

"He knew about at least one of the boy's involvement."

"And you know this-"

Henry shrugged. "The guilty look on his face? The way he was so quick to accuse Hanson and the department?"

"Yeah, I gotta say I got that vibe too." She sighed. "Put Hanson on."

Henry handed Hanson back his phone, and sat this time, eager to watch the rest of the interview play out now that Jo had both something James wanted, and something to hold over him.

oOoOoOoOoOo

As Jo finished her interview turned interrogation, she stopped by to talk to Henry.

"So that was an interesting afternoon."

"Fruitful though."

"Yes," she said, nodding absentmindedly, "James says that he had been receiving threatening calls using a voice changer for over a month, but he doesn't think our victim knew about it."

"And the caller was most definitely threatening him, not her?"

"Yep. And that mysterious number-"

"Did I hear correctly, him saying that the individual on the end of the line, apologized?"

"Mmhmm." Jo pulled out her notes. "They said, 'It's not your fault. Just because Erika's about to make a mistake, doesn't mean any of this was your fault.' "

"Interesting."

Jo nodded. "So he rush planned the whole thing-"

"And hoped to run away with her." Henry smiled softly. "You must admit, it's somewhat romantic."

"Maybe to some people? It's all a little too fast for my liking, not to mention illegal."

"Ah, well, in the long run, you learn to take what you can get out of life."

She rolled her eyes. "So do you think he pulled her into the crosshairs?"

"It would appear that way; although I have a feeling there's much more to it than that."

"Yeah, I'd like to have a look at the evidence from the previous cases myself, see if any of this new information correlates."

They slowed as they came to the point where their paths separated.

"I'll be in my office Detective, if you should need me."

"I'll call."

oOoOoOoOoOo

"I've got it." Jo dropped a stack of papers on Henry's desk, and grinned at his little jump of surprise.

Quickly, but calmly, he pushed everything he had been working on; both official and not, into one pile and dropped them into a drawer.

"Detective, I wasn't expecting you, I do apologize about the mess."

Jo waved it off, and pulled out a sheet, handing it to him "Look at this, I can't believe I missed it."

He took it gently, and began to read. "From the similar case in South Africa; The victim had plans to move to the United States?"

Jo nodded, "She wanted to be a movie star- who doesn't?"

"I see no relevance-"

"-Wait for it. Look at this one, from Japan." Jo handed him another sheet.

Once again, he read aloud. "Victim recently quit their job, friends say that he was planning on backpacking around Europe."

He sat quietly for only a second. "Each of the victims had been about to change their life drastically, whether for the short or the long term."

"Exactly"

"The killer then, it seems, simply doesn't want her victims to alter their lifestyles?"

"Looks like it. And get this. The threatening calls were made only to the individuals who were encouraging the victims to change."

"Detective, I truly appreciate you keeping me up to date on the case, but shouldn't you be telling all of this to Hanson first?"

"How do you know I didn't?"

"I suppose I don't. I'm right though aren't I?"

Jo didn't answer. Hanson's off trying to tie up loose ends with that Phelan Murder you opened up an hour ago. It'll take him a while; looks like the boys are both out of this lovely country at the moment. I'll fill him in when he's done. Besides, I wanted to see what you made of these."

Jo flipped through the pages until she arrived at wide lens photo of each of the previous crime scenes.

Henry looked up in surprise. "I was told that all photos were destroyed or erased under suspicious circumstances."

"Yeah, well, you're not a cop talking to cops. Much as we aren't supposed to, many of us-" She bit her lip, deliberating "-we get into bad habits, and bring evidence home."

"Their misdemeanor is our fortune." Henry smiled, and pulled out an ancient looking magnifying glass, checking on something that had caught his eye. "See this here?" He pointed it out. "There was a nearly identical marking at our crime scene, I dismissed it at the time merely as graffiti, but now…"

Near the corner of the photo, like a signature on a painting, was a scribble. It was dark blue in Japan, green in South Africa, and gold in New York, but the same marking nonetheless.

"I knew there was a reason that I liked working with you." She patted him gently on the back. "I'll get it to our guy, see if he can find anything similar in the database."

Henry nodded. "I'd recommend starting with my homeland; there is something vaguely familiar about it."

"Got it." Jo nodded, and froze. "Before I leave, can you explain something to me?"

"I will do my best."

"How did you know Phelan stole the ring? Its driving Hanson mad, and I've got to say, it's bugging me a bit too. "

Henry chuckled dryly. "These are magician's secrets Jo"

"Henry"

He sighed good naturedly. "He had the file open, I saw the reflection of the photo in the glass." He shrugged.

Jo rolled her eyes and laughed. "Magician's secrets eh? I'll have to remember that one."

She turned towards the door and after a moment of internal deliberation, she elected to close the previously open door and sit.

"Detective," Henry asked, slightly confused. "How else may I be of service?"

"Henry." Jo sighed "Please tell me that you're using one of your many vacation days tomorrow?"

He shook his head. "I'll have you know I'm saving them up for a good reason. Abe's Birthday is coming up and-"

"Henry."

He sighed. "No, my dear Detective, I am not. I will be here."

"Henry-"

"There is far too much to do." Henry rambled "Only just today there was another rather horrific automobile accident involving a bus, I believe. Lucas and I will be working all day tomorrow to finish up with it."

"Henry-"

"Jo. I've been through enough loss to know how best to pass the day. Please trust me when I say, coming in to work is really the best option."

Jo sighed. "Are you sure?" She was clearly worried, but hesitant to push it.

"Positive. I'll see you tomorrow Detective."

oOoOoOoOoOo

It was much later when Henry finally left the morgue; hours after Jo and Lucas had gone home for the evening. The streets were damp, and not finding himself in the mood to walk, Henry called a Taxi. After having checked his cab driver's license, Henry sat in the back, and lost himself in his thoughts.

oOoOoOoOoOo

"Come quick!" Henry's face flushed with happiness, a much younger look in his eyes. Giggling slightly, he grasped her hand as they went back in the direction he'd run from.

"Henry!" Abigail giggled as well as he pulled her along, intoxicated by his excitement, "What is it!"

He talked!" Henry stopped suddenly outside Abe's room, a smile filling his face.

Abigail's mouth dropped in surprise. "Really? Oh Henry!" she pulled him close for a quick kiss, and rushed into the room, picking up the baby they'd only had for a few months and cradling him in her arms. She brushed the hair out of his face, and Abe grabbed her finger. "What did he say?" She asked excitedly.

"Mama!"

"Oh Abe!" Abigail's face lit up with excitement, and she pulled him closer to her in a quick hug and hissed his forehead.

"Henry-" She looked at him with such love in her eyes, he couldn't help himself. He stepped forwards to pull her into a longer kiss.

"Happy Birthday darling."

oOoOoOoOoOo

"Sir? Sir?"

Henry shook his head to clear the memory, and smiled faintly. They'd arrived at the shop. "Ah, Thank you." As he got out, he handed the driver his fare.

He unlocked the door to the shop, and frowned to see that even though he'd been told not to, Abe had waited up.

"I should have known"

They'd clearly had this conversation more than once before. "Yep" Abe answered, "So I heard that Jo took you out for lunch?"

"How on earth-"

"I have my sources."

Henry shot him a look

"A supplier of mine was in the area"

Another look made it's way over.

Abe sighed. "The way you left this morning, you think I wouldn't check up on you? I called Lucas-" he paused, and pointed at Henry accusingly, "Because you know that you wouldn't have answered your phone, even if you had been there-"

Henry nodded his head in admittance and with slight guilt. He had to allow that one; Abe was right.

"So I called Lucas, and he filled me in."

Henry sat. "Well I suppose I should be thankful you didn't try to have me followed- again."

"I do learn from my mistakes you know."

"That," Henry clarified, "is still up for debate."

"Ahh whatever." Abe swatted at the air. "Now that you're back, I'm off to bed."

"I think I'll sit awhile. Goodnight Abe."

"Night."

.

They were both trying hard to act as though nothing was the matter, and both doing a magnificent job of it as well, with their so many years of practice concealing things. After Abe left to sleep, Henry went downstairs and sat at his desk, looked fondly at Abigail's portrait that sat on top, and tried his best to stem all the memories from overwhelming him.

"Happy Birthday Sweetheart." Henry murmured

oOoOoOoOoOo

* * *

A/N:: Although I do quite a bit of research, please don't use my work as a reference point for real life, it is fiction, there are always mistakes and inconsistencies.


	6. Tea Bags

A/N::

'Pas de liberté sans liberté de la presse.'

No freedom without freedom of press.

"I do not agree with what you have to say, but I'll defend to the death your right to say it." -Voltaire

*More notes at the bottom.

* * *

Henry woke up in the morning, not the least bit surprised to find himself still at his desk. In the kitchen beside a plate of blueberry scones, he found a note from Abe.

_~ At the pond, and then out for the day._

_Call me if you need ANYTHING. Anything._

_ Abe_

_P.S. I mean it. Anything. You don't have to wait until you feel like going swimming. Call me before that. Please. ~_

Henry managed a humourless smile in response to Abe's loving note. He shuffled through the motions of the morning, and almost didn't notice the bell ring as the door opened.

A little belatedly, he called out without looking up. "We're closed today, please come back tomorrow."

"Good thing I don't want any of these stuffy antiques then isn't it?" Jo replied, and Henry looked over in surprise.

"Detective, what are you doing here?"

"Well, Hanson's in Vegas coordinating with the LVMPD for the Phelan Case, and I need to go run down some leads on Staten Island. I'd rather not go alone, and you're my unofficial partner."

"Detective, I'm sorry, but-"

"Yeah, I know, yesterday's crash." She sighed.

"I'm sure there are several Detectives at the station who would be all to happy to accompany you."

"Yeah, But they aren't nearly as good at their jobs as you are."

He looked at her for a moment, trying to decide how to approach this. On one hand, he knew that she was likely only asking him to come to ensure that he wouldn't be alone all day, and as much as that was indeed what he wanted, he did appreciate the thought. On the other hand, he was both more intelligent _and_ observant than most of the members of the force, (although it was in no way their fault; time was on his side like none other). It was perfectly logical that she would like him to accompany her for that reason alone.

He knew that that wasn't the reason though, not really, although it did make a convincing argument.

Abe would love it if he went with her.

"Please Henry?" She tilted her head slightly and had such a hopeful look on her face; there really was no way he could say no.

"Very well." He sighed in defeat, and Jo shot him a smile.

"Thanks."

"Don't think I don't know what this is." He called over his shoulder as he went back to fetch his jacket and scarf that were draped over a chair.

As he returned, he caught Jo reading the note on the table.

She looked up, confusion in her features. "I didn't realize that you needed a chaperone to swim."

Henry sighed. "It's an old inside joke."

"Doesn't read like he's joking."

"Abe has a dry sense of humour. Trust me."

"So?" She asked.

"I'm sorry?"

"So, what's the joke?"

"Surely you know what the definition of 'inside joke' is, yes? Abe had a rather succinct way of putting it. 'If they weren't there, you don't share.' The humour is something found more in the moment or the memory of the event, than the joke itself that may be made afterwards. Such things are lengthy to explain, and often not found funny by those who were not present when the situation occurred.

Jo rolled her eyes. "Henry, I know what-" she stopped, and smiled. "It's about your sleepwalking habits isn't it?"

Henry sighed in defeat. "It might be related."

"You sure do try to make it hard to get to know you, don't'cha?" She nudged his arm as they left the store.

Henry shrugged and locked up, before following Jo to her car.

As they got in, she began to speak.

"First stop coffee. After that, we've got to visit the school where our victim worked, her gym, and I'm even gonna let you poke around her apartment. We'll see where that takes us." She paused and glanced at Henry. "Sound alright?" she asked.

"Coffee?" Henry didn't understand. "Detective, I have coffee in the-" he pointed towards the Antiques shop, and his home, but Jo just shook her head.

"Nope. First stop is coffee." She turned the key in the engine. "Lets go."

oOoOoOoOoOo

An hour later through the traffic, and a quick stop for caffeine. The silent car rolled to a stop. The whole trip, Henry appeared to have simply tuned everything out, he stared out the window whilst Jo just drove, and worried about him. Henry was never that quiet. So what was going on in that poor strange head of his? She wished he would tell her more, tell her anything really, but at the same time, she didn't want him to tell her because he had to, or because he was drunk, but because he _wanted to_. She had a feeling that whatever it was, it would be worth the wait.

Henry was still caught in his daydreams, in his memories

"Here we are", Jo announced, and tapped him on the shoulder.

He looked at her in alarm for a split second, and then he remembered where they were.

_When_ they were.

"Ahh, yes." As he glanced out the front window to see the building, the clock on the dash flashed off, and Henry's eyes widened in surprise.

"Is it really-?

Jo nodded

"I am so sorry detective, I hadn't realized-" He sighed. "I loose track sometimes. I'm-I'm afraid it doesn't make me very good company."

"If I'd asked you to come along just to keep me company…?" Jo made a face, "Mehhh, I might be upset." She shrugged. "I didn't though, and quite frankly, I know better than to expect conventional conversation from you."

"Still, I doubt you expected no conversation at all." They stayed to one side of the walkway, avoiding the hoards of children on their way to school.

"I'll admit, the whole 'Silent Henry' thing was a bit worrying, seeing as you normally like to talk, even if you never really say anything-"

He grimaced.

"-but it wasn't so bad. Gave me some time to think over the case."

A little. A very small amount of time had passed where she was actually thinking about the case, but Henry didn't need to know that.

"Still, I apologize-"

"Henry; don't."

She stopped him at the front door. Jo held Henry's gaze for a long moment. There was no reason for him to apologize, especially when he hadn't even wanted to come in the first place.

Unexpectedly, he reached out, and grabbed her hand for a shot moment, giving her a reassuring squeeze. "Thank you, for getting me out of the shop. You were right, I did need it." He said the words to comfort her, but found they actually did ring true.

"Anytime." She said, slightly distractedly.

"Now I don't know about you, but I'm quite curious to see what her colleagues have to say about our victim"

"Yeah. Lets do this. " Jo smiled

oOoOoOoOoOo

They were taken to one of the staff rooms, their victim's desk in the corner, and a table and chairs had been graciously set up.

"Somebody watches too much CSI" Jo muttered

Henry tilted his head in confusion.

"Do you watch _any_ TV?" Jo's voice was filled with disbelief.

"No. Frankly I find it both a waste of time and space" He walked towards the 7th grade teacher's desk.

"But Abe does?"

Henry sighed, and nodded in resignation "I do believe he has a little one, hidden away"

"You know you say things like that, and I begin to forget that Abe's your elder."

Henry had his back to her, and grimaced. "Don't let him hear you say that," he turned towards her, his expression changing in an instant with a wink, "He already teases me about it."

Jo chuckled. Gazing around the room, she gave a small smile as a result of memories the school brought back.

Henry smiled at her smile. "Fond memories, Detective?"

She nodded slowly. "Junior High may have been hell-" she paused, "But it helped me figure out who I was, what I wanted to do." She was rifling through the folders that had been kindly left on the desk, while Henry rubbed the inside of the drawer and sniffed his fingers. Jo pulled a sheet out.

"Hey, Doctor Morgan, look at- Henry, what on earth are you doing?"

"Tea." He said simply.

Her expression remained unchanged.

"Remember that our victim had been dosed with LSD, albeit with little to no side effects."

"I remember it confused the hell out of you, and that worries me."

"Yes well," he held up his finger. "I believe that it was being administered through her tea."

"There's no way that our killer could possibly stay that far ahead of her all the time, follow her to her chosen coffee shop or café, and not happen to drug anyone else by accident. It doesn't make sense, and it's way too risky. It has to be something else. "Unless dosing her tea at the school, and or at her home, was enough…" Henry started doing some mental math, for lack of a better word, and slowly nodded.

Jo assumed he's proven himself correct.

"It's a valid theory?"

Henry nodded. "Even with the caffeine level in black tea, it may have been just enough, provided she drank it often. It would also have concealed the slightly metallic taste that the LSD might have, depending on the quality of the batch and how 'fresh' it was, so to speak."

"You've totally tripped before, haven't you?"

"I assure you, it was for research purposes only"

"Mmhmm." She looked at him with interest, and narrowed her eyes.

"It was a long time ago detective. Can we get back to our victim?"

"Tea, yes? Just grab it, and test it when you get back to your lab." Jo shrugged.

"I would detective, but there is no tea here, nor anywhere else on her desk."

"What about these?" Jo held up a box of tea bags that had been partially hidden behind the monitor, and shook them gently. "You're slow today."

"On the contrary," he took the box into his hand and opened it, showing her the contents. "Tea bags. Not our victim's."

"Henry," Jo sighed. "The box says Earl Grey. You told me yourself that was her blend of choice. There is no way you will convince me that you know she drank loose leaf from an autopsy."

"You'd be surprised-" She shot him a look, "although I will admit, in this instance, no. What I do know, however, is that our victim was allergic to dandelions." He started pacing and explaining, as he was so often did. "She couldn't have drunk this tea." Henry closed the box, and tossed it into the garbage. "It may surprise you, the materials used to make tea bags- even the loose leaf ones; and dandelions are more often than not found in the ingredients. Now it wasn't a severe allergy, so I didn't think it pertinent to mention earlier, but it would certainly have been irritating for her. Imagine never knowing how you would react to your own beverage; if your tongue would swell up slightly, or become numb, or if you might loose sensation all around the mandible, or develop an extremely irritated throat-"

"The what?"

"Her jaw."

"Ahhh" Jo exhaled.

"As a result, I'd wager that she got into the habit of bringing her own tea with her."

"Alright genius, tell me this. Why didn't she just switch to coffee?"

"Detective," he said tiredly, "just because I can read a body, and draw conclusions, and therefore reasonable outcomes from it, does not mean I can read her now decaying brain. I'm afraid that falls to you."

"Don't snap at me."

Looking at him, she caught the remnants of a glance filled with apology and exasperation.

"Alright, so our killer doses all her tea beforehand, and as long as the victim sticks to her usual routine-"

"The LSD would stay in her system. Yes I believe so."

"Excuse me, Detective?" A timid looking man, only one of the many on the list that Jo'd given to the principal, interrupted them.

Jo spun around, she hadn't fully expected him quite yet. Still, she regained her composure quickly. "Mr," she looked at the identical list on her phone, "Deni?"

He nodded vigorously.

"We just have a few questions about Erika."

"Of course. Anything I can do to help." His voice lent him an air of confidence that wasn't obvious by his composure.

oOoOoOoOoOo

The next couple of hours passed talking to multiple junior high school teachers. None had noticed any relatively odd behavior from the victim in the past year, although all agreed that she was very set in her ways. She would arrive at the exact same time every morning, she ran an oddly efficient and organized classroom, for a Drama and Arts teacher, and had at least two cups of tea a day; one in the morning when she arrived, and one at lunch.

None knew where the tin of loose-leaf tea was- and Henry had informed Jo early on that the markings inside the drawer guaranteed that it was most certainly a tin. In fact, no one really seemed to know anything about their victim, other than she was an excellent teacher, and loved by her students.

"It's strange." Jo commented as they left the school; not really coming out with much more information about their victim than they went in with. Without the tea to test, all they had was a hunch "My drama teacher in grade seven, he was a really care-free guy, and would talk to anyone, about anything. The whole school knew his secrets. Sure, it was a smaller school, but I guess it was just something I assumed all drama teachers had in common."

"Assumptions are dangerous things, Detective."

"They're also something you don't even realize that you do, until it's too late."

Henry bowed his head in agreement as they stepped back into the car.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Henry slipped back into his memories again as they drove to their next destination.

He'd assumed that he would be with her to the very end.

He'd assumed that she'd be safe.

She'd assumed that he would be able to live without her.

He'd assumed that he could protect her, and Abe.

He'd assumed that he would eventually find a way to die.

And if he could have been right about everything else, if all of his, and her assumptions could have be correct, he could live with never dying. He really could.

The problem was that they weren't.

oOoOoOoOoOo

"Doctor Morgan?" She'd lost him again, off in his imagination

Still, she didn't think it's been wrong of her to ask him to come.

"Henry?"

He took a deep breath and sighed. " I was thinking of her, and Abe, and better times. He shook his head softly. "I really must apologize Detective."

"I thought it was supposed to be Canadians who apologized too much, not Brits."

"Yes, well, culture is much like genetics. No matter how much we may love it or hate it, it assuredly is passed on." He shut the car door with a small thud, and something inside the apartment caught his eye.

"I guess they do." She gave a little nod.

"Detective-" Henry said suddenly, "Has the apartment been cleared yet?"

"No," she said, confused, "Why?"

"Because there is someone inside."

"Shit," she swore, pulling out her gun. "Just my luck. Henry, Stay here."

"Unlikely Detective. What if he were to go out the back? You'll need me to cover the other exit.

"Well then you can cover the front, by _not moving._ And don't pull any of your usual tricks, please?"

"Detective…" He urged her to reconsider as Jo stalked up the steps, peering through one of the windows.

"Damnit Henry, no. This is _my_ job, you're along for the ride." The tone of her voice, and the words spoken, contrasted with soft volume she had to maintain in order to not alert the individual in the apartment any further. "Self Preservation, that's your number one priority, got it?"

"It'll take much more than death to get me out of your hair detective" Henry spoke quickly, and softly, and without thinking first.

She stared at him for a long moment, eyes wide and stern, not sure if she'd heard him correctly. "I'm not in the mood for jokes Henry," she eventually hissed. "Don't do anything stupid! Now shhh!"

Jo hurried up the stairs. Weapon out in front, she pushed open the unlocked door, and started a room-by-room sweep.

It wasn't even ten seconds later when Henry heard a round of gunshots, none of them from Jo's gun.

Panic filled his face as he scrambled up to the apartment. "Detective!" He called out frantically, looking for her in desperation. If she'd gotten hurt, and he could have stopped it… After what seemed like much longer than it actually was, Henry froze as he spotted her, lying far too still on the floor in the hallway. Her gun was a few feet away, by her feet. "Jo!" he called out, and ran towards her.

He didn't care if there was still a gunman here, he didn't care if he was moments away from being killed. Again. He just wanted to make sure that Jo would be fine, that she would live. She had to-

"Mara sends her love."

Henry looked up just in time to catch a sinister wink from the scrawny intruder before he ran out the back.

* * *

A/N:: Thank you to everyone who finds the time in their busy lives to read this, it means so much to me!

As always, I own nothing but the story here, I'm just borrowing the characters for my own amusement, and hopefully that of others.

Goodness I only hope i'm not giving too much away too soon! Enjoy!

*Edit* Chapter Published on Jan 10th 2015


	7. Case Work

A/N::Hello!

Thank you to all the amazing people who thought this was worth a follow, a review, a favourite, or a visit! Each and every single one is so so appreciated! I love you guys!

Alright... So this chapter took longer to write than they normally do, not sure if it was the content, or indicative of my new writing schedule with school started back up... I will however be updating on progress throughout the week on the Tumblr page, (foreveroversights) so go check it out if you're interested, and feel free to ask me anything you want!

As always, I do not own the characters, but this story down here is starting to take over my life XD

* * *

Henry coughed as he dropped to his knees beside Jo's form. She was visibly breathing, but had a nasty, but shallow gash on her head. He quickly grabbed some gauze from his pocket; old habit, he always had some with him, and pressed it to the wound. "Oh Jo."

Henry sighed; and found that the air around them smelled a little too sweet; _tasted_ a little too sweet. Either Jo or their intruder had knocked over a bag of powered sugar, or-

Over to his left, Henry spotted a small canister on the floor, and instinctively pulled his scarf over his face.

So, not powered sugar then.

Henry pressed two fingers to Jo's neck and sighed in relief a few seconds later. A steady pulse, and although it was little weaker than he would have liked, that was not unexpected.

Henry sat down next to her, manoeuvring so that he could maintain the pressure on her persistently bleeding cut, and leant his head back against the wall. Her head wound was superficial at best, and she'd wake in a minute or two. He'd keep an eye on her breathing until she regained consciousness. Until then, he did his best to analyze the events that had taken place not two minutes before.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Jo groaned, and slowly opened her eyes.

Why the hell was she on the floor?

Jo slowly lifted her head and simultaneously brought an arm up behind her to support her weight. She found her motion limited by Henry's hand on her arm.

"No wait, don't move yet. Take it slowly." Henry pressed down with his hand gently, and she collapsed back.

"What happened?" Jo asked, her words a little slurred. There was something pressing against the side of her head, and as she tried to dislodge it, she once again found Henry in the way. "What's going on?"

"You cut your head on the table on the way down."

"Really?" She asked, slightly surprised, mostly because she couldn't feel any pain.

"The lack of sensation would be courtesy, of what I expect we will determine to be Isoflurane. It's a general anesthetic, although I've never heard of it being used in this way before."

Jo was playing catch-up. "Slow down. What are you going on about?"

"From what I can piece together, the intruder knew you were coming; he was likely lying in wait.

After a moment or two, she nodded; her memory collaborated with what he had said so far. "Lying in wait to shoot at me?"

"Or perhaps to knock you unconscious with the gas? I'm not sure it doesn't make much sense. I'm afraid it's all I've got. It appears that as soon as you opened the front door, he set off that gas canister." Henry nodded towards the container that was a couple of meters away from them.

"Help me up."

"Detective-" He said worriedly

"Henry." She gave him a look.

Sighing, he did as he was told, and managed to help Jo prop herself up against the wall. She was still a bit out of it, but found that she could focus more and more with time. "Continue"

Henry obliged. "Our assailant knew he had to get out, before the gas affected him as well, but didn't count on you being in the way. Due to his distance from the gas, and your close proximity, I would estimate that your thoughts and motor functions had slowed drastically, which explains why you were unable to shoot him."

He was right. Her first thought had been to get away from the gun pointed at her, rather than raise her own as it should have been. He'd fired at her, and she'd dropped, sluggishly, Jo didn't remember anything after that, although it would appear that she'd hit her head.

I wasn't until hours later that Jo wondered if her instinct to run and not shoot back was related to the Bentley case, and not just the fact that she'd been drugged.

"How long was I-," She asked nervously

"A little more than five minutes?"

"Damnit. Wait-" She looked at him curiously "I'm surprised Doctor Morgan, that you didn't call 911."

He grimaced. "They should be here within the next few minutes. Hopefully." He sighed. "With their embarrassing response time, there's not much left for them to do. Granted," he allowed, "I did let them know I was a medical professional when I called."

"Right." Jo sighed. So she had to wait for an ambulance, and later there'd be miles of paperwork to fill. Nothing she could do to change that now, Henry had only been following protocol.

"You didn't happen to call the lieutenant did you?"

"Ah! Yes," he said, fishing in his pocket to pull out her phone, and hand it back to her. "I did."

Jo's eyes widened, she hadn't quite expected that answer. "All right. And?"

"She's got an officer putting out a BOLO for our assailant."

"Good." Jo nodded,

"And she'd sending an officer to get your car."

Her jaw dropped. "What!?"

"You can hardly drive at the moment."

"Oh, believe me, I can drive." Her words and tone were filled with a confidence she didn't really feel, but this was a point of pride.

"Detective. There is a reason they instruct people to not operate vehicles or heavy machinery on medication such as this. Your reactions and reflexes are still slowed, and certainly not at their peak.

"Don't try me." She narrowed her eyes, and Henry got the impression that if he insulted her reflexes once more, he'd earn himself a slap across the face "I'm fine."

"No you're not; but it doesn't matter. A cab should be here shortly, and after the paramedic clears you, we'll go back to the precinct."

"You can take the cab, I'll take my car"

Henry grimaced playfully. "Detective, I'm afraid that may be difficult"

"Why, did our mystery man do something to it?" There was worry, and suspicion in her tone;

-And rightfully so.

"I have your keys."

She rolled her eyes, and sighed in defeat. "Of course you do."

While Jo reluctantly stayed sitting- under Doctor Morgan's orders; Henry had gone through the house under Jo's careful guidance. There was no sign of the tea, or of any tea, actually, which only led them both to the conclusion that it was in fact the tea that had been laced. He had also found several sets of prints-which Jo promptly emailed to the lab, and a boot tread that was probably that of their intruder.

Jo herself had taken to investigating the bullet shells and the canister, looking for anything that could help their case.

About fifteen minutes after Jo had woken up, and a little over eighteen minutes after Henry had called, the ambulance showed up. A small paramedic promptly told her that unless she was worried about her health, and wanted to stay the night in the Hospital, there was nothing he could do.

Henry had expected as much, but regardless, he wouldn't risk either of their jobs, or even their right to work on the case, over such an insignificant technicality as calling nine-one-one.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Jo sat annoyed in Henry's office an hour and a half later, scowling in a chair across from his. She was _fine._

Except the lieutenant agreed with Henry, who thought that she shouldn't be moving around too much until he knew the entire composition of the chemical that had rendered her unconscious.

Henry had offered to share his office space, given that her phone was 'out of commission' at the moment. Jo sat, with a tablet in her lap, going through what little they had, and trying to make sense of it all, and felt completely out of place, and yet so comfortable. The room itself made her feel like she'd walked into the past, leather bound books lining the shelves, an antique lamp, no technology other than the not so new phone on the desk. There were even black and white photographs around, if you looked hard enough. Despite the antique feel though, or the cold morgue that was only five steps away, it was one of the places she felt the most comfortable in the whole building.

She tilted her head and watched Henry work for a bit, taking a chance to bask in the moment where for once she was the one observing him, and not the other way around. He sat at his desk in silence going over the autopsies Lucas had done while they were out, and Lucas went over their victim's body again with a fine toothcomb.

He looked up suddenly, and met her eyes with a worried glance. "Detective? Is everything alright?"

Jo rolled her eyes back at his worry, but smiled slightly. His continuous concern was touching. "I was just thinking about this room."

Henry gave a small smile.

"My theory, is that you grab the antiques you like from the shop and bring them here so that Abe can't sell them."

"Ooh!" Lucas exclaimed upon hearing the last of Jo's words as he entered the room, "Ask him what the picture is of!"

"The-?" She looked quizzically at Henry, and he shook his head softly.

"Lucas is under the impression that I have an image of my secret life, hidden away. Apparently he's yet to learn from his mistakes, he seems determined to find it."

Under the attempt at humour Jo could see some well-hidden pain.

"Lucas." She sighed, "There's no picture."

"How would you know- wait, has he? -" He turned to really look at her for the first time since he'd entered the office, and froze. "Wow. Are you okay? You look tired- Not, not that it's a bad look on you; I mean if you wanted, you could walk the runway right now-but not that you couldn't before, I mean you have an amazing- not that I've been-"

"Lucas" Henry sighed. "What did you come in here for? Let's leave Detective Martinez in peace" Henry simultaneously rescued the undeserving Lucas from a hole too deep to crawl out of, and put a stop to how much it was amusing Jo.

"Right, I'm so sorry Jo-I mean-"

"Lucas…?" Henry prompted

"Well… This was just faxed over." He held up a simple piece of paper. "The lab report. Or what they have so far at least. Apparently the lab called Jo, and couldn't get through," Jo winced guiltily at the thought of the unplugged cord, and the fact that she wasn't even at her desk, "-and then they called the lieutenant because Hanson's in Vegas, and she told them to send it down here, and-."

"Out with it."

"It's not the substance from the canister, but they did get a match for the prints you found at the apartment. They're in the system from another case. The Carmichael case a couple of months ago? And then also the Black case in '11, and they think he was involved with several other break-ins in between..."

"Do we have a name?" Jo asked, hardly daring to hope.

Lucas shook his head "Nope. But the prints are apparently all the same." He handed Jo the sheet, and she looked over details that quickly started to all blur together.

She nodded slowly as she took in this new information. "Alright, so lets go over what we _do _know about this case. One, the killer is female-"

"Mara, according to her accomplice from the apartment." Henry added, closing the folder in his hands in order to give their discussion his full attention

Jo nodded, and continued. "Two, This is her third kill, she's meticulous, and leaves no evidence that may point to her identity."

It was Henry's turn to nod. " There were no fibers at the crime scene or on the body that were out of place; no trace of foreign DNA under the victim's fingernails, nor anywhere else on her body-"

"The little residue we did find indicated that she even used a cheep brand of gloves. You could buy them in hundreds of stores across the city." Lucas supplemented.

"Alright. Three, Somehow she convinced the victim to take a trip across the city, to a shady alleyway, and then killed her with no resistance."

"Correct, the victim had no defensive wounds on her body."

"Guys, you know, this list isn't looking too hopeful" Lucas interrupted, and Henry shot him a look.

Four," He continued, "She maintains a close watch on her target, drugging her last victim for it seems no other reason than that she could. " Henry held out his hand for the report, and Jo passed it silently as she spoke.

"She likes to be in control, and strikes just before the target does something that would drastically change their lives. So she doesn't like change." Jo concluded.

"From the nature of the phone calls each of the deceased's loved ones received, I believe that may be an understatement. Change seems to be the trigger to kill."

"Although we still have no other motive; and call me cynical, but that isn't quite good enough of a reason, to me, for a smart woman to kill." Jo looked over at the sheet in Henry's hands. "Five; we now know that she used a local guy to clean up for her."

"At least two of the cases cited were gang related" Henry put in, "So we might even be looking at a gang element."

"Lovely." Jo said sarcastically. "Your apprentice over here-" Henry made a face, and Lucas swelled up with pride,"-Is right. It's not hopeful. At all. We still don't know anything about our killer, other than now, her name, and even that is suspicious. I mean come on, it was pretty much a gift."

"A gift perhaps, but every little detail tells us more about her. With this, we know she's overconfident, and wants attention. It means that she's likely still in the city, and following the investigation. As well, she's obviously a brilliant chemist, as can be evidenced by her deft manipulation of both LSD, and what I suspect the lab will report back as a variation of the common anesthetic, Isoflurane."

Jo raised her eyebrow, impressed. "Alright, so how many people are there out there with the education needed to do what we figure she did?"

"Given that we don't know her native country, too many. The woman we are looking for isn't your usual graduate though, she is far more intelligent, and incredibly dangerous."

"Of course she is. Damnit."

Henry gave a sympathetic shrug.

"We also don't know _how_ she chooses her victims. We don't know where she's from. She's likely in her early thirties, that is _if_ she completed her education before she started killing, but even that is an estimate because we have no clue if the LSD is a new addition to her pattern." Jo groaned. "I hate this case"

"It's quite a conundrum isn't it? Rather intriguing though," Henry asked, "don't you agree?"

Jo rolled her eyes, and pressed a hand to her temple.

oOoOoOoOoOo

"It's this signature." Henry spoke abruptly, jarring Jo from her thoughts.

The two of them were still held up in his office, although by now they'd received the report on the substance in the canister, and the ballistics analysis from the bullets fired at Jo at the apartment- they belonged to a stolen handgun. As for the canister and its contents, Henry had been right, as he usually was; it was a so far unseen form of Isoflurane. They also knew that the canister itself had been part of a shady shipment; and it was something they could run down in the morning.

"The Graffiti?" Jo asked, after a moment to orient her thoughts. "What about it?"

Although they each were working on their own paperwork and such, they both kept coming back to this case. It frustrated both of them completely, and Henry was nearly at the point where he would re-do the entire autopsy if nothing came to light in the next little while.

"It has to _mean _something_. _ Why else would she put it there?"

"Artists sign their work all the time, to claim it as their own. Maybe she's afraid of someone else trying to take credit for it?"

"Perhaps. Remember though, this woman is a scientist, not necessarily an artist. Artists generally want their work to be known and admired by everyone who sees it. Scientists, however, even though they may appreciate the publicity an ordinary, and large audience can get them, mark their work more so that other scientists can see what they've done. It's a subtle, but I believe important difference."

Jo nodded. "No, no, it makes sense. Crime scene photo's aren't exactly published for the public to see." Jo picked up Henry's phone, and called one of her computer lab rats. "I need you to coordinate with whatever offices in South Africa and Japan you can... Check and see if there is anyone who has seen the crime scene photos from both investigations, or who was at the crime scene themselves, then cross whatever names you get with out records" She listened for a moment, "Mmhm. Perfect, thanks." She hung up, and sat back in her chair, just a little happier with their progression on the case. It wasn't much, but it was something they could look into at least.

"Might take a day or so, time zones and all, but hopefully that will help."

Henry nodded distractedly, hands in his lap.

oOoOoOoOoOo

"When i'm gone, there'll be no crying, alright?"

"Abigail-"

"No. You can be sad, but don't waste a moment of your precious life wallowing over me. I don't regret a moment of my life with you, and i'd hate for you to regret the happy moments because of the pain afterwards. You're to move on. Don't you dare forget, but don't you dare sulk around either. Remember the happy times; there are so many, they shouldn't be hard to find."

oOoOoOoOoOo

"Henry-" There was no response. "Henry-" Jo reached forwards to touch his arm. "We're at the shop."

Henry dug in his wallet for the cab fare with one hand, and grabbed her hand and squeezed it lightly with the other. "Why don't you come in for a bit?"

Jo shook her head. "I can't Henry." He needed some time with Abe, and she wasn't part of that world. Maybe sometime he'd let her in, but not now.

Henry nodded. "I appreciate what you did today Jo, trying to get me out of the precinct, even if it didn't last."

Jo smiled grimly.

He gave her a little nod, and shut the cab door with a dull thud. Henry watched the car drive away, to take her to her home; where her car was undoubtedly waiting.

Taking a deep breath, he turned towards the shop. All in all, it had been a better day than he'd expected.

It was as if a scare with someone he cared about, someone completely mortal, was what he needed to remind him of Abigail's words.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Just a simple bouquet of flowers.

He'd picked them himself, on the way home from work. It'd taken him half an hour longer to get home, due to the searching through wildflowers along the walk for those that were the brightest, the prettiest, the least marred by disease.

A ribbon he'd picked up in the market held the stems together; it was one he'd bought only because he thought she'd enjoy it. One he thought would make her smile.

Walking through the door, he held the hand with flowers behind his back.

"Hello?" He called through the house.

"Henry!" Abigail came running through, excited to see him, and relieved to see him dry and fully clothed "What kept you? I was worried-"

Henry placed the flowers in her hand. "I wanted to add a personal touch to the professional birthday festivities I know Abe has planned."

She led him through into the kitchen, grabbing her favourite vase from a shelf and expertly arranged the flowers, tying the ribbon in a gorgeous bow around the base. "There." She announced as she finished, and Henry smiled wide. "How do they look?"

"Not half as beautiful as you." He replied smoothly.

* * *

A/N:: You didn't really think i'd hurt Jo, did you?

XD

On the other hand, I am one of those writers who absolutely adores the Character/Geode comparison.


	8. Countdown

A/N:: Hey! Thanks so much for your patience, and i'm sorry about the extra week worth of waiting! This chapter was hard to write, i'm just too excited for what's coming up! EeeekkkK!

Favourites, Follows, Reviews, I appreciate each and every one so much, they mean the world to me! Thank you so, so, so much for them! XD

As always, I own nothing, the characters are not mine, nor the overall world. I just like to play with the little scenario featured here.

* * *

"Abe?" Henry called out hesitantly.

"She's cutting it close you know."

Henry tilted his head and frowned in confusion as he hung up his jacket.

"I assume you are referring to Detective Martinez?"

"Well who else?" Abe replied sardonically

"Fair point"

"And you're in a much better mood than I thought you would be." Abe came close, invading Henry's personal space to smell his breath, as Henry made a face.

"Abe!" Henry chastised as he pulled away "Really."

"You haven't been drinking."

"You have" Henry noted

"Yeah, well, that's beside the point. What's up with you?"

"There was a close call at the scene we visited; it-" He sat with a sigh of relief on the couch "It allowed me some perspective."

"Well, I'm glad."

Henry nodded slowly in acknowledgment, and tilted his head slightly. "What were you up to?"

"Well, I certainly didn't gain any perspective if that's what you mean." Abe was a happy person naturally, and so even while grieving, he tended to remain the optimist. However Henry knew there was so much he was holding back at that moment, for his father's sake.

Henry sighed sadly, and reaches over to grab Abe's hand and squeeze it lightly, before standing to grab them both a glass of wine.

Giving one to Abe, who took it silently, he raised his own in a toast.

"To Abigail."

oOoOoOoOoOo

Thirteen.

Henry returned home the next day tired- but otherwise getting back into a normal schedule.

He hoped.

Jo had had her usual Tuesday off, much to her dismay. The lieutenant had insisted on it, _especially_ as it as an already scheduled work-free day, and after Henry had pointed out how much of a hypocrite she would be if she turned around and did exactly what she had told him not to only the week before, she'd reluctantly agreed.

As a result, it had been a rather quiet day at the morgue.

Henry had painstakingly gone over the M.E reports from the car crash the day before- the one Jo had convinced him to leave for another Examiner, and he could help but shake his head at some of the foolish conclusions, and roll his eyes at others.

After about an hour of reading, he called Lucas into his office.

"Yeah Doc?"

Henry rolled his eyes back in defeat. Despite his protests, it seemed the moniker was to be one he would be stuck with.

"Lucas, could you perhaps tell me _why_ the Medical Examiner yesterday reported that it was human error, that caused the accident, rather than outside forces that caused the accident?"

Lucas shook his head, "I dunno doc. I thought that the crash was more likely because of a poor little guy, all curled up near the engine, like from that case about a year ago that we worked on-"

"The Cleming Case, a mouse seeking warmth inadvertently caused a crash by nesting by the engine, and chewing through some crucial wiring"

"Yeah, that's the one."

"It most certainly is similar. Now Lucas-"

"Yeah?" he asked hesitantly

"Did you think of _mentioning_ this to the ME?"

"I did! I told him, showed him, and-."

"I see. Let me guess. He made some comment about you-"

"Being an assistant dissector, not even close to a detective." Lucas nodded, "Oh, and to 'Stop trying to sound smart, because it only shows how little I put my brain to good use.' "

Henry frowned. "Well, that's his error. You were absolutely right."

"Really? I mean- yeah, of course-" he paused. "Wait-"

"Lucas?" Henry asked.

"You're doing it again aren't you?"

"Doing what?" Henry asked innocently

"Making sure that the other M.E,'s catch all the little things you would have caught- going over their work, _without_ telling anyone, _let alone_ asking, and last time-"

"Relax Lucas. I'm not looking for any trouble, not today, I have better things to do than go around babysitting them right now"

"So why are you-"

"I wanted to be sure that _you_, had caught them."

"Hey, that's not fair!"

"Why not? You've been working with me enough. Granted, you haven't had the years I have had to practice my craft, but it's about time that you started picking up on some of the nuances, _especially_ those that others don't. It will turn you into one of the finest examiners the city has ever seen."

"It's about time- wait, really? You think I can-"

"It's all about attitude, Lucas. You lack focus sometimes; and you have a habit of zeroing in on details that are insignificant, but there are times-" he tapped the sheet he was reading, "There are times when you get it right."

oOoOoOoOoOo

When Henry got back to the shop, Abe was talking a rather kind looking woman into paying what Henry was sure was an exorbitant amount of money for something that had probably come out of a factory twenty something years ago. He sent Abe a quick nod in greeting, and slipped into his lab in the basement.

He had started some research and tests concerning the LSD they had found. What he was ultimately trying to find, was what other chemicals Mara had obviously-(to him. The lab had found nothing in their preliminary analyses, and refused to waste resources to test it further. What he wanted tested would have to wait it's turn in line, and that could take weeks. Hence why he was doing it on his own.) mixed with the LSD, although so far he hadn't had much luck- It was difficult to do much, as he didn't have a lot of the substance to work with in the first place.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Twelve.

Henry arrived at his office the next day to find Jo sitting in his chair, a rather thick, well handled folder in her hands.

"Good morning Detective" Henry greeted her cautiously.

"You took your sweet time getting here"

Henry pulled out his pocket watch and frowned. "It's Eight-Thirty" he said in confusion. "Technically, I'm half an hour early."

"Hunh." Jo said "Whatever- Listen, I had a thought"

"Please," Henry leant against the side of his desk as Jo so often did, and watched her with curiosity.

"The guy that shot at me, we know from his prints that he's involved with gang activity in the city."

"Yes, but no one particular gang. The individual cases he'd reported to have been involved in-"

"Have different gang signatures, I know. But this guy has to get paid right?"

"Presumably"

"And even if he only got paid cash, in this day and age there is always a money trail. I called the techno-rats and asked them to send me any financial information they could that go through traced or flagged gang accounts, or that set off alarms, amount wise." She passed him the pile of papers as though it was a sacred object.

"This morning?" he asked suspiciously, "And here I thought I was an early riser"

"No, I was working on it yesterday."

"Jo," Henry said, his tone patronizing. One's day off work is supposed to be restful, not strenuous, especially given the events of Monday." Henry sighed, and looked at her with a concerned gaze.

Jo rolled her eyes. "You mean sit around all day and waste even more time? Yeah no, not happening." She paused "And stop looking at me like that? I'm fine"

"Mara is an incredibly intelligent woman, I've been studying her work some small samples of her LSD, and from the canister that-"

"At home I assume?" There was no way she would let him get away with calling her out on working from home and not call him out on it as well.

Henry tilted his head and grimaced. "Fair point. What I'm saying though, is that there could be unforeseen side effects."

"Alright," Jo allowed, after a moment, "I'll play ball. Have your tests come up with anything?"

"No, but-"

"Has the lab come up with anything?"

Henry sighed "No-"

"And the lieutenant even had me go back for a checkup, they did blood tests the whole works. Henry, I'm fine. There was no sign of the compound, or anything else for that matter." She held his gaze for a moment, before continuing, tapping the folder still in his hands. "Can we focus on this now?"

He stared for a few moments, then gave a slow nod, "My apologies detective, please continue. I'm assuming your search turned up something useful?"

"Took a while, but yeah, it did. There's a pattern, spans across multiple banks, multiple states, even multiple countries. The numbers 24,87,and 11, all show up in a sum, in any particular order. Add a Zero on the end and a decimal place, and you've got yourself a nice sum of cash… twelve times this pattern recreates itself. We have a known gang front all of a sudden withdrawing 11,872.40, probably for a simple B'n E cleanup, and then a rival gang paying 87,241.10-"

Henry caught on quick. "Perhaps a hit they didn't want to do themselves, or multiple services all on one bill. However Jo-"

"Yeah?" She looked up, and her face was alight with excitement.

"We can't know for sure that the man we are looking for is the one getting paid. You have found a pattern that many analysts missed, and I congratulate you on that, but we simply don't know-" he froze as something else clicked in his ever working brain. Oh, Interesting."

He looked closer at the numbers. "11, the same year this man first became known to the police-"

Jo nodded, a smile playing on her lips

"-and in two-thousand and eleven, a twenty four year old would have been born in 1987"

"Bingo"

"It's not much-"

"The year matches, and from your description, it's the right age range. It's enough for me.

Henry smirked. "Can I have my chair back then?"

Jo looked around surprised, "Oh-yeahh… Oops." She stood slowly, and pushed the antique chair in carefully. "Sorry about that she bit her lip nervously and Henry chuckled. "It's a really comfy chair…" she offered as an excuse

"Of that, I'm aware. It's hard to find the right chair, one that gives proper support, and yet is still balances perfectly with comfort, and doesn't force-"

It was Jo's turn to chuckle.

Henry paused. "What can I say, I am very fond of it."

"I'm gonna go have a chat with the lieutenant about all of this- You wouldn't want to join me would you?"

"And have her blame me somehow that you worked from home? I think I'll stay out of the lion's den."

"Yeah…" Jo made her way to the door, "Probably a smart move"

oOoOoOoOoOo

Eleven.

"Abe, what is it?" Henry asked tiredly as he walked into the shop. It wasn't even noon, and Henry'd gotten a call from Abe insisting he come home immediately, and made an excuse about a customer arriving before he had to explain any further.

Now there was no way Henry would ignore a call like that, there was always the possibility that something was honestly and truly really wrong.

The thing was, Henry _knew_ Abe, and he _knew_, that he was up to something. It wasn't urgent- not really, it was Abe manipulating him into coming home for some reason, most likely because he wanted to skip out for an hour or two to meet a lady friend, and for some odd reason had qualms about closing the store in the middle of the day- it had happened before.

Henry heard a laugh in the kitchen, A laugh that was distinctly _not_ Abe's, and frowned slightly. "Abe?" he called out hesitantly

"We're in here!" Abe called back.

_"Please don't be one of your ex-wives,"_ Henry breathed.

He walked into the room to find Jo and Abe sitting together, talking.

"Jo?" Henry asked

"Hey Henry, Abe here was just telling me about some of his- your, more peculiar clients."

"Ahh, Henry!" Abe greeted him, "Do you remember that guy about a year and a half back?" He turned back to Jo. "We had a guy come in here, convinced that I could find him an Alexandrite necklace from the Early Victorian Era."

Henry got right into it. "Which of course is nearly impossible. Alexandrite wasn't even discovered until around the 1830s, in Russia no less, not a place under Queen Victoria's rule. Knowing that the Early Victoria Era, as it is called now, begun around 1835, and the stone was discovered only five years previous to that, and that it was coveted by the Russian royal family, it's hard to imagine that much of this precious gemstone left Russia. It's even named after the Czar of the time, Alexander the II, who-"

"Henry-" Both Abe and Jo spoke at the same time, and Henry sighed.

"Just get back to the story!" Abe teased him

"Alright," he exhaled. "When dear Abe here told him that what he was looking for didn't exist-"

"I offered to find him something from a little later in history, at a very generous price" Abe winked, and Jo rolled her eyes good naturedly. "Normally I don't deal much in jewelry, but this one had a whiff of crazy that I just couldn't resist."

"Ahh yes, " Henry smiled, "Never one to back down from a challenge are you?"

"Not without a good enough reason!"

"Oh, there's a story there isn't there?" Jo asked, curiousity overflowing

"One for another time," Henry chuckled. "Now this gentleman, he seemed quite content with that arrangement, and agreed to the transaction." He sat down at the end of the table, and reached forwards to grab one of the mini sandwiches Abe had obviously prepared for lunch. "Abe called him a week or two later-"

"I was actually surprised how fast I found what I needed, but with a few well placed calls-" he paused, remembering. "Oh man, was it a beautiful piece."

Henry raised his eyebrows in agreement and nodded. "Mmm that it was. Then our client came in, took one look, and said immediately that it wasn't what he wanted."

"Picky guy," Jo commented.

"Naturally I was confused," Abe put in, "What was there not to like? It was the closest I could find to what he was looking for, and I'd even shown him pictures, and he'd liked it then-and then this poor fool says that the necklace 'looks too old'! "

"But this is an antiques shop…"

"It most certainly is!"

"So what did he want?"

"What all amateur antique hunters want." Henry replied passionately. "Something old, worth a fortune, but shiny, clean, and works perfectly. People don't seem to understand that age only adds character," he said in earnest.

Abe sputtered his drink at that last comment, and Henry shot him a quick glare before inquiring falsely as to his well-being. "Abe?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine" He waved it off

Jo glanced between the two of them, and rolled her eyes at their combined eccentricities. The whole telling of the story had been an adventure from start to finish.

"So Jo," Henry changed the direction of the conversation from perhaps not-so-harmless antiques stories, to something more pressing on his mind. "What brings you to the shop?"

"Well," She replied easily, "Abe called, and invited me down for lunch. I didn't have any other plans, and his cooking is marvelous, so I thought, hey, why not?"

Henry nodded, under and looked over at Abe. "And that urgent call to me?" He prompted.

"It was the only way I can get you to come home for lunch these days! Doesn't matter though, you missed most of the meal."

Jo nodded. "Yeah, speaking of, I should be getting back." She rummaged around in her bag for a moment, before continuing. "First though, I wanted to ask you something."

"Me?" Abe asked in surprise

"Well, you are Henry's helpful source when it comes to things like this. I just beat him to it, so it's not quite so illegal this time.

"Aww, " Abe whined, "you take all the fun out of it!"

Jo gave him a look.

"I mean," he cleared his throat, "of course officer, anything I can do to help."

Jo smiled. "That's better." She handed him an envelope. As Abe opened it, Henry immediately recognized it as the signature symbol from the crime scenes.

"I take it this means the Labs didn't find anything on it?" He asked

Jo shook her head "They got nothing." She tilted her head, "What about you?" She asked Abe

He was studying the pictures, and the detailed graphic that the techs had drawn up to compare the image digitally. "Maybe?" he replied, "There's something about it, but I can't put my finger on it." He looked at the image some more, and then lifted his head to meet Jo's gaze. "Can I keep these for a bit? I know someone who…" He held up the pictures, and Jo nodded.

"Yeah, feel free. I should be going now though, Unfortunately Lunch is only an hour long." As she spoke, Jo stood, and gathered her things. "Abe, it was great talking with you, and your cooking, as always, was delicious.

"It was good to see you too detective. Until next time!" He called with a little wave as Jo left the shop.

"Abe…" Henry started

"I know that tone, don't start"

"Why did you call Jo up and invite her over for lunch out of the blue?"

There was silence, and Henry expected a long winded explanation, something to do with 'choosing his own friends thank you very much'. What he got instead was a little unexpected.

"I worry about you."

Henry's whole demeanour softened. "Oh Abe."

"And it's nice to talk to someone who knows you so well. It not easy you know, being the only one who knows your secret- Adam doesn't count-, so it's a nice change to talk to Jo, because as much as you might wish it otherwise, she knows you better than you think."

"Abe," Henry sighed, "We've talked about this-"

Yeah yeah, I know. I still think it's the right call. She can handle it."

"It's not an easy decision Abe. We have a good life here at the moment, and were she to handle it badly-"

"I don't know that you're giving her enough credit."

"Perhaps not. I'd rather err on the side of caution though, then throw all we have into the wind on a hunch."

"Sometimes I think you take too many risks because of your condition, but then sometimes, I don't think you value the benefit of risks enough. It would be good for you, having her in the know, and having someone else around who can help should something happen to me-"

"Abe, nothing's going-"

"It's only a matter of time."

Henry swallowed thickly.

"Besides, I think it'd be a relief to her, having a reasonable explanation for your constantly odd behavior."

"My odd behavior? And I'd hardly call it a reasonable explanation."

"Before you got here, we weren't just talking about antiques." Abe started setting up a chess board as he spoke. "Jo may, or may not have mentioned your odd way of looking at things. Don't get me wrong, she loves it, but at the same time, you've got to watch how you say things. Black or white?" He asked, pointing at the board between them."

"Black" Henry breathed "I won't change how i act on a day to day basis Abe, you know that."

"Then I guess it's gonna be a race against time then. Which will happen first? You tell Jo about your condition, or she figures it out on her own? Which would you prefer, honestly?"


	9. Fact or Fiction

A/N:: So, here it is, the next instalment!

Thank you all for your patience!

Please note that i do not own the characters, although at the moment i do blame them for a bad bout of writers block :-P

* * *

As much as he wanted to get back to his work, Henry found it increasingly difficult to focus as the day progressed. Abe's words, and question, refused to leave him be, and repeatedly he found himself far to distracted to be considered acceptable.

He finished the day distracted, didn't sleep much, and sat in his office the next morning musing about.

He wanted both; and neither. He didn't want to think about it, and yet he couldn't seem to stop. He didn't want anyone to know, but it was a lonely life he led, and he missed being able to openly talk about things. He didn't want to change, but if he was honest with himself, he had. He knew it, Abe knew it, but neither of them wanted to admit it. It seemed like a loss, a concession, or a failure even- that he'd given up his integrity to keep a secret.

He wished he were a better man, that he could maintain his honesty and keep his secret at the same time, but unfortunately the two things were not able to coexist.

He did his best, but obviously it wasn't nearly enough, he would have to do more.

Should they move?

-No.

Henry had dismissed that idea almost immediately. For the first time in years, he felt at home in his surroundings, like it was somewhere to live, and not just visit or pass through.

Abe was doing well here too, and it wasn't fair to pull him out of his life. _Again_. He really wanted to avoid moving again as much as he could, for Abe's sake.

He would just have to try harder.

Would it be so bad? Henry wondered, pen rolling in between his fingers, If Jo knew?

He skipped the thoughts of doubt, of potential disasters that could come from her knowledge, of the fear he had of loosing her friendship, and jumped right to the possibility of her knowing, and fully accepting, as Abe predicted.

He'd gone over it all so many times by now, he knew what his final response would be-

-No hassle, no grief, just a simple fact-

-It might be nice. He smiled slightly.

"Knock knock?"

Henry jumped slightly, startled from his reprieve by the sudden appearance of the detective herself.

"Detective?" he said quickly, "Was I expecting you?"

"You might 'a been, if you answered that phone of yours." She shrugged. "I was bored anyways, thought I'd come and check on you."

Henry dipped his head. "My apologies detective. How may I be of assistance?"

Jo rolled her eyes. " I got a call from Hanson, he'll be back tomorrow. I guess the case was open and shut, easy confession once they got the guy into a room."

"That's fortunate." Henry supplied

"Yeah, well, they can't all be whack-jobs like this one." She jutted a thumb over her finger to the morgue behind her. "Speaking of which, are you going to let the body go anytime soon? The family's getting kinda impatient; we've already had it much longer than usual and-"

"Lucas is actually taking care of that now; regrettably, there's nothing more we can learn from here." Henry sat staring at the pen in his hand, and the paper on his desk, but the sheet stayed free of ink.

Jo nodded. "Good, good." She paused, surveying the room, and taking a moment to discretely analyze his expression while he wasn't looking.

It was a rare opportunity, often the focus he gave to the subject of his attention could be- overpowering. Right now he seemed… Distracted? Undecided? Maybe confused?

"Y'OK Henry?"

"Yes, Yes of course. Why do you ask?"

He'd been too careless, he needed to _compose_ himself, to not let anything else slip.

"This one's got to be driving you mad."

He let out a little sigh of relief. "How do you mean?"

"Well, just that you've normally got it all figured out by now." She winced slightly as she realized what she'd just said-"Please don't take that the wrong way-"

"No, you are absolutely right." Henry agreed. "As much as this case may be puzzling; and more so than usual, I prefer to look at it as a challenge." Henry straightened his back, and held his head high. Determined "It limits unproductive thoughts and maximizes the will to persevere, and to come through victorious. 'Never confuse a single defeat, with a final defeat.' "

Jo stared expectantly, not even bothering to try and figure it out, when she knew-

"F. Scott Fitzgerald; Poor man, Tuberculosis all through his life. He wasn't quite the drunkard people thought he was."

-that he would tell her momentarily. Jo rolled her eyes. "Oh of course he wasn't." She played along. "Well, whatever works for you I guess." She sighed. "If we don't get something new on this case in the next few days though, the lieutenant will make us put it on the backburner."

"That would be unfortunate, but understandable. I'm sure there are other cases worth our time."

Jo wasn't sure if she'd heard him correctly.

"So you're just gonna let it be?"

Henry said nothing

"Until this psycho kills someone else?" She continued,

Henry shrugged. "There isn't much more we can do…"

"Which, in case you've forgotten, should be in _three years-"_

"I do recall." He replied wryly

-in _another country._"

There was a twitch, a break in Henry's otherwise nonchalant gaze and Jo rolled her eyes. She reached over to smack him lightly on the shoulder.

"You had me going you know."

"Detective." Henry teased. "I thought you claimed to know me? A case this interesting, with a killer this intelligent? I doubt I'll rest well until it's been solved!"

"Atta boy." Jo grinned

"Your encouragement is appreciated, if not slightly concerning. Our killer has yet to make me a target, and so I feel no concern continuing with aiding the investigation. However-"

"Henry." Jo spoke firmly. "Don't."

Henry nodded slightly, if not reluctantly.

"This psycho had her hitman attack me, whether it was on purpose or not, It's personal now. I want these guys behind bars, pronto."

"That, believe it or not, I can understand."

oOoOoOoOoOo

Ten

Henry closed his eyes and sent out a silent prayer to anyone who might be out there for a tiny bit of patience.

One of the newer detectives had come down for the report on a fresh body delivered that morning, just after Henry's conversation with Jo.

Normally that would be perfectly all and well. Unfortunately he wasn't quite accustomed to Henry's method of delivering information, and it seemed he'd confused the newbie.

He'd first tried his long method, where he explained every detail; he'd tried the history lesson, which seldom went over well but it was worth a shot. Lucas had tried to explain with his obscure references and strange, apparently comedic interjections, but to no avail. No matter their attempts, the new detective simply refused to believe them.

Maybe it was because he _was_ new, and far too eager to investigate his first murder; or perhaps it was simply because he watched much too much Television- and those dreaded procedural shows that warped the perspectives of youth these days, Henry thought; but no matter the reason, it was a little more than frustrating.

"Detective, I can assure you, This was not murder.

"Are you really sure? I mean, couldn't-"

"Detective, If I wasn't sure, I wouldn't have called you down to tell you what I found."

"Sometimes though, I've seen that they can make it look like-"

"Brian," Lucas intervened, "Don't start this again"

"But how can you know 100%?"

"Well I hope he knows for sure, otherwise I'd hate to break the news to Jo that her favourite M.E really _is_ off his rocker." He winked at Henry, who returned a level stare, all in good nature.

"Ahh Detective, So good to see you."

"So… Murder?"

"Maybe-" the young detective started, only to be cut off by both Henry and Lucas.

"No."

"Noope. Nuh uhh. No way, never, couldn't have been, impossible…" Lucas drifted off as he received stares of impatience. The look on Henry's face begged him to stop talking, while he was only a little behind.

Hanson rolled his eyes, and pulled the young officer to the side.

"Delron, this is what they do, you gotta trust what they tell you is right. If we don't nothin'll ever get done around here. As hard as it is to admit it-" he snuck a side glance at Henry, who was obviously listening, although trying to not be noticeable in the act."-Henry's the best I've ever seen. Now don't go spreading that around," He said sternly, wagging his finger slightly.

The young detective nodded. There was doubt in his features, but he could hardly ignore words like that from a senior detective.

"Good. Now, let's leave the Doc to his work, he's got other things to do I'm sure. And kid?" he asked as he directed the young officer out of the morgue.

Brian turned and tilted his head slightly.

"We _like_ it when it's not murder."

Henry grinned slightly at Hanson's words as they left the room, relieved that the young Detective Delron was no longer wasting their time, but also glad that Detective Hanson was to be the one teaching him.

oOoOoOoOoOo

A day later, Henry found himself at Jo's desk, around 10:30 in the morning.

Jo had informed him in a conversation a day earlier that Hanson had literally stepped back into the precinct from his trip to Vegas to find Detective Delron waiting at his desk. First day, and assigned to Hanson to learn the ropes.

Henry had asked why Jo herself hadn't been given that opportunity, being the more senior detective between herself and Hanson.

Apparently the lieutenant had thought that Jo needed all the time she could to handle Henry and his eccentricities.

Henry decided to take that as a compliment.

"Abe found something.

Jo spun around at her desk, eyes sparkling slightly as she took in a Henry that hadn't been there moments before, and she breathed a little sigh of relief as his words registered. "Oh thank god."

Henry dipped his head in agreement "Apparently the signature at the crime scenes resembles a symbol used by a cult in Britain, in the late nineteenth century."

"Wonderful"

"Indeed. I can't believe I missed it."

"Hey, don't go too hard on yourself"

"I really must apologize Detective, for not seeing this earlier, I could have spared us both time, and effort."

"Well, think of it this way. If you caught everything immediately, the department would have no reason to pay me."

"So my failure is not a failure, but a ways of keeping you employed?"

Jo nodded, eyes wide. "Mmhmm." She shot him a little smile. "Does that help?"

Henry pursed his lips in thought before answering. "Surprisingly so. Still, I should have remembered."

"Remembered what, Professor?"

Henry shot Jo a look of exasperation before continuing.

"It was a rather small, but loyal group of followers who believed that it was their sole duty and purpose on earth to fix the problems of those around them."

"Well that doesn't sound so bad."

"Perhaps not, but while their motives may have been benign, their methods were not. They held that those who disrupted a community with issues should be held accountable, and were therefore put to death."

"Ouch"

"Needless to say the cult didn't last long, as members who exited their private property felt it was their divine right to kill those causing issues, and these members were collected by the protecting authority of the time in a timely manner. The cult itself didn't survive very long, although it was re-created several times by the survivors of a previous cult, they had a habit of killing themselves off."

"What kind of society can live without disagreement? That's not a means to survive."

"They have a leader, and as with most cults, their word was law."

"_Have_? I thought you said this cult was active in the nineteenth century?"

"Yes. I believe our killer-"

"Is a part of that cult." Jo finished for him. "Oh god."

* * *

Please keep in mind that this is fiction; the unnamed-as-of-yet cult that I mentioned is completely made-up.


	10. Evidence

A/N:: Hello everyone! Thanks for all your patience, and I hope you like the direction this is going!

Every single one of you means so much to me; I can't thank you enough! And don't be shy to say hi!

As always, I do not own the characters; this story is mine though, please enjoy!

* * *

"I believe that she's the remnants of the cult, to say the least." Henry agreed with Jo, "Although in the interest of lexical accuracy, I should mention that this is no longer a cult."

Jo stood. "What do you mean?"

"There cannot be a cult without followers to a leader; those who the head of the group has power over, in one way or another."

Jo thought for a moment before replying. "So we've got a long lost, disgruntled follower, trying to do her part for a dead cause. Lovely."

"Ahh, but it seems the cause is not yet dead to our murderer. She appears to be oddly determined."

"And you question Lucas' health when he gets obsessed with a simple little piece of fiction."

Henry raised his eyebrows, a tad surprised at the analogy but nodded in reluctant agreement.

"I will admit, I do not comprehend his fondness for plastic pages covered in images. I've suggested various other works of which I believe he would thoroughly enjoy, but every time I approach the subject, he changes it ."

"Oh yeah?" Jo grinned slightly, "Well, That's Lucas for you; He'll get around to them, eventually, don't worry. He respects you too much not to."

"That's kind of you to say Detective".

"Yeah, well, with our jobs, who has time to read these days?"

"I do" Henry replied, a little surprised at the question "One must put aside the time to appreciate a good book. It's always worth it."

Jo nodded "I'll find time to read," She tilted her head; "Eventually. Once this case is over, I'm going to need a few days anyways."

Henry smiled slightly, but left it at that.

oOoOoOoOoOo

"Martinez." Jo answered her cell. "Perfect, can you send it to me? Thanks."

"Something new?" Hanson asked

"Maybe." Jo replied, not sure yet if this was a lead that would get them anywhere, but it was worth a shot. The lab rats got their hands on rudimentary lists from the Japanese and South African cases; who's had access to the evidence and all that. No matches yet, but they're keeping me updated."

"Hey, that's a start. At least Reese hasn't kicked you off the case yet."

"Mmhmm. Speaking of," Jo smirked at him, "How's babysitting detail?"

Hanson groaned, "Don't get me started, please."

Jo laughed. "Grab lunch tomorrow? We'll swap stories."

"Hm. At least the one you have to keep an eye on is helpful."

She grinned, "Yeah, he's not to bad." She stood and walked over to Hanson's desk, snatching a sushi roll from his lunch plate.

"Heyy!"

"You snooze you loose!" Jo shrugged and winked at him "Anyways I'm outta here, Henry and I have evidence to look over. As for your shadow… give him time. He wouldn't be here if the lieutenant didn't think he had potential.

"Yeah yeah, I know. and he's not that bad really he's just a bit too…

"Excitable?"

"Yeah, that works." He waved her out. "Go on, get to your actual case, I'll be here, teachin' the kid what the difference between a lead and a hunch is."

"Hunches can be useful you know-"

"Don't go giving him any ideas. Now shoo!"

Jo chuckled as she made her way out, popping the sushi in her mouth.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Lucas was closing up their latest arrival that afternoon as an officer approached him. He raised a hand in recognition.

"Hang on, I'll be right there." The officer nodded, and watched Lucas finish his job with interest.

Lucas threw out his gloves and approached the officer, still wearing his apron.

"What can I do for you?"

"Doctor…" the officer peered closely at Lucas' name tag "Wahl. I was hoping to get another copy of the Catter case autopsy report? Someone seems to have misplaced it."

"Why not just send an email request?" Lucas asked, confused.

"I was already coming to grab something else from down here, so I offered to save the hassle and come get it in person."

"Oh! Well, hey, Thanks!"

The officer gave him a strange look.

"We don't get many people who want to come down here. It's nice to know that you officers realize there are people who do this job. You know, those reports don't write themselves and end up in your inbox all on their own, and-"

"Doctor Wahl."

"Right, gotcha." Lucas opened the cabinet, and tilted his head in confusion at the empty folder for a moment before remembering where it was. "Ahh-Right! Umm, are you sure you haven't got your wires crossed or something? Detective Martinez took our copy only a few minutes ago… said something about needing to talk to the cleaning staff about the missing one… are you sure you need a copy?"

"Yes."

Lucas shrugged, whatever their paperwork problem was it wasn't his fault. "Alright, well, give me a minute to print out another-"

He leaned over the computer station and made quick work of finding the report, and a warm copy was in the officer's hands less than three minutes later. "There you go!"

The officer turned to leave the room

"But seriously, don't loose it again-," The officer was already on his way out, ignoring Lucas easily. "Alright, well, Thanks for coming by!" Lucas's voice increased in volume as the officer got further and further away, and as he finished he was nearly yelling. "It was good talking to you!"

He rolled his eyes and muttered to himself "And here I thought, oh, look, someone who maybe cares? But as soon as he has what he wants, he just leaves! No 'thank you' or anything. How rude. How normal." Lucas sighed, and went back to work.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Nine

Henry had left not ten minutes earlier with Jo, off to discuss more findings in the Catter case. She'd made an official request for information of the British Consulate General, so now she and Henry were off to access the records on the deadly cult and it's end at the hands of the government. It was a shot in the dark; that they might find something useful, but at this point almost anything would help.

As they walked through the front door, Jo held up her badge silently and the gentleman behind the desk nodded in recognition, and held up a finger. Two minutes later, a friendly looking woman walked up to them holding out her hand.

"You must be Detective Martinez; Jean Harris." She shook Jo's hand fiercely.

"It's so good of you to assist us on such short notice. This is my partner Dr Morgan." she indicated Henry with her hand.

"Oh, it's no trouble," she said with a smile. "Dr Morgan." She held out her hand once more. "Would you please follow me?"

After they had shook, Ms. Harris lead then expertly into the side wing of the building, and they ended up at an empty desk with a computer and chair on one side, and chairs on the other.

"Now, how may I help the good NYPD?" Ms. Harris looked up expectantly as she sat down at the computer.

Jo shot Henry a confused look, but gathered herself quite quickly, "There was a cult in England, the-"

"The Order of Honour. It was dismantled by the government in 1976."

Jo rolled her eyes at Henry's inability to let her do her job. "We were hoping to get all the information you guys have on it, including the reports that lead up to the takedown, and any monitoring that was done of the individuals that were involved in the Order of Honour, after the cult was eradicated."

"Certainly. It should only take a few minutes."

Ms. Harris started typing and clicking at a fast pace, and Jo ventured to ask another question.

"Do you mind if I ask, If the information we were looking for was electronic all along, why couldn't I just get an electronic copy?

"I'm afraid that we've had some problems lately with security; we couldn't risk anything getting out. I'm also going to have to ask you to not leave the premises with anything I may give you as well, for security reasons, you understand."

Jo nodded.

Henry's eyebrows furrowed.

Jo caught his expression, and reached over quietly to tap his hand. "Henry?" she asked, curious.

"I'm sure it's nothing." He muttered.

Jo pursed her lips. Henry was rarely wrong when he had a hunch.

"I'll tell you later."

Jo nodded, satisfied for now.

"Here we go then!" Ms. Harris smiled at them as she stood and passed Jo some pages from the printer under the desk. " As I mentioned before, we just ask that these documents don't leave this room, but I do hope you find what you're looking for. My colleague at the desk around the corner to the right can get a hold of me if you should find you need anything else." She nodded to each of them in turn "Detective, Doctor. Good day."

She left, and both Henry and Jo's posture relaxed once she was no longer in sight.

"Henry, I didn't think your people were so untrusting."

"How do you think we became the largest empire in the world?"

"Fair enough."

"Besides, it's clear they've been having issues lately; I'd guess a break in where some sensitive data was stolen. I'm not one to rely on technology myself, but the security cameras in the halls, as well as that one," he gestured at a camera obnoxiously pointed at them, "look rather shiny and out of place."

"Yeah, I noticed that too. And the window has bars on it, those are new as well."

"So they are." He nodded absently, then abruptly reached forwards and pulled the pile of papers towards them. " Well, Detective, shall we look at what we came here to see?" It wasn't an overly large pile, but neither was it dreadfully small. He split it in half at random, and handed one stack to Jo.

She took it, and it was quiet for a good twenty minutes as they looked through their respective collections of information.

"Well, I see why our latest victim was wearing a blue dress." Jo commented. Pictures had been printed along with the other documents. All of the cult members were continuously dressed in varying shades of blue. "Makes me feel like I'm looking at an ocean."

"That may have been the point. They believed in the purity of water, of cleanliness. It's why the body was so clean, and the murder site blood free; it's why we couldn't find anything identifying the murderer on the body. She believes that in killing them, she's killed the stain upon society, and that dirtying the earth, or herself with their blood would negate her attempt to clean the world of their wrongdoings."

"Lovely. Though I thought this was one of those topics where you weren't already an expert."

"I'm doing what I can to rectify that." He held up a page. "Their manifesto, an enthralling, if not dark and disturbing read." He put it down, and continued with the search.

"This will take forever, you realize that? If we have to track down every last one of these people to see if they may have spoken to a woman about the cult almost ten _years_ ago…" she sighed.

"Perhaps not. Take look at this." Henry held out a sheet of paper to the Detective.

"It's just another list of names Henry; what am I looking at?"

"The man who worked for our killer identified her as 'Mara', if you-"

Jo nodded slowly, and her face lit up as she saw what he had. "And we have a Mara. Two, actually. But Henry-" her face fell. "These individuals would be in their late eighties. A woman that old, going around killing people for old times sake? I just don't see it."

"Of course you're right, a woman of that age would simply not have the strength required to commit the murders. Look at the years though, there-" he said pointing, "the ages."

"Oh very nice. What, if one of them was a child? A baby?"

"Then she might fit our profile perfectly." Henry finished.

Jo was impressed, although she didn't know why, she shouldn't have expected anything less. "Well spotted you!"

Henry smiled. "We now have a full birth name, and the name the government gave her when she was put into foster care. That should be enough to dig up something else, shouldn't it?"

"Oh, it'll be plenty." Jo grinned. "Henry, do you mind coming over here?"

Jo was on the other side of the table, facing him, and the look on her face was odd.

"Jo? What is it?" Henry asked, concerned.

She rolled her eyes. "Just get your ass over here."

"Very well," Henry did as she asked, and ended up standing next to her

"What is it that I should be seeing?"

"Nothing. I just needed to use you as cover."

"Whatever fo-" he paused mid word as Jo pulled out her phone, and started taking pictures of the documents that they had explicitly been told were not to leave the premises. "Ahh." Henry finished, "Good thinking."

Yeah, well, I don't do too well with people telling me what to do with my evidence."

"It is a trait that I admire."

"Alright, got it." Jo slid her phone back easily into her pocket, packed the pages into a pile, and turned to Henry. "I think we've got everything we need, don't you?"

Henry bowed his head slightly, and gestured towards the door, a smirk on his face. "After you Detective."

oOoOoOoOoOo

"Hello Henry"

Henry's eyes widened as he turned around to shield his face from Abe. He'd know that voice anywhere. Cold, determined, unemotional, and without any sense of remorse.

Adam.

"What do you want."

"Oh Henry, come one." Adam tutted into the other end of the line, There's no need for that. I'm doing you a favour."

"Somehow I doubt that."

"You are resolute in your beliefs of me, and I respect that, but i'm acting out of character here, my dear Henry-" His voice turned colder still, "-don't make me regret it."

Henry answered only with silence.

"Well, I suppose that will have to do. I'm a patient man henry, and we have all the time in the world.

"Adam, _what do you want?_ Henry repeated himself, his voice stressed. There were better things to be doing than playing Adam's ridiculous, and deadly games.

"Well, I like to keep an eye on things that interest me; and you're smart enough to know that you're a great interest to me."

Could he possibly know Abe's arguments? Henry's thoughts? That path wasn't even in the works, and Henry wasn't sure that it ever would be; but even so, Adam had proved before that he would take any measure needed to protect their secret.

"The silence of a guilty man." Adam chuckled. "Don't worry Henry, your inner secrets are, for the time being, inconsequential to me. Jo, however… Well I'd hate to see her get hurt."

"Don't you touch her!" The rage that Henry felt was something that he had not felt in a long while, and the threat in his tone was real.

"I'd hurry Henry." Adam hung up, and it took Henry less than a second to dial Jo's cell. Nothing. Home number, no answer. Even as he called her desk phone, doubtful as he was that she'd be there so late, It shook him to the core when he reached only her voicemail.

"Abe!" he bellowed dialing another number and groaning with frustration when the lieutenant didn't answer. "ABE!"

"Henry! What, what is it?" Abe was worried too, not much got his father worked up like this.

"We need to go- Now."

"Go?" Abe asked, confused, but grabbing his keys all the same, "Alright, where are we going?"

Henry didn't answer him; finally someone had answered his call.

"Hanson" The detective answered, his voice more than a little exhausted.

"Detective!"

"Henry?" Hanson asked, confused.

Henry jumped right into it. "Detective, I have just received a call making threats on Jo's well being. I can't get a hold of her on any of her lines; and the lieutenant didn't answer the only number I have for her, and I'm sorry to call but-"

"No no no, you did good Doc." Henry could hear a jingle of keys from the other side of the line, and muffled shouting as Hanson told his wife he was going out. "Doc, do you think this has something to do with the attack-"

"I-Well-, I'm not sure Detective." Henry didn't know what to say. Adam hadn't outright threatened her; and what was this about _doing him a favour?_

"Well, I'm on my way, I'll give you a call-"

"Not a chance. I'll meet you there." Henry hung up before Hanson could protest, and ushered Abe outside. "Go Abe go!"

oOoOoOoOoOo

Eight

Jo had arrived home without incident, and a copy of all the evidence from the case that she'd been gathering now sat either in a safe deposit box at her bank, or now rested in her jeans pocket on a memory stick. There was no way she was going to loose everything like the other detectives had. Officers of the law bringing evidence home was the only thing that had saved them with this case; without it they wouldn't have had the symbol, nor the cult, nor a very possible suspect. She dumped her keys in their bowl and took off her gun and badge, placing them in their safe. Maybe she didn't need it anymore, with her husband being gone and she living alone, but sometimes old habits bring comfort. At the last second, she added the memory stick, then locked it and smiled, pleased with the days events. Jo wandered into the kitchen and grabbed a tub of spaghetti and put it in the microwave for dinner, before setting brown paper bag Henry had given her before leaving the office for the evening on her counter, and looking at what it contained. Inside was a _very_ old book, and a _very _expensive bottle of wine. Smiling slightly, she picked up the obviously well-loved tome carefully from the bag and delicately opened the cover. A sheet fell out and floated to land on the floor face up, and she found she could read it from where she stood.

~ _To be enjoyed together, at your earliest convenience._

_Henry~_

Jo smiled a little wider, and reached down to pick up the note. Out of the corner of her eye, the detective saw a shadow move where there shouldn't have been one, and she froze, smile instantly gone.

"Hello Detective."


	11. Henry Calling

So at long last, another chapter.

Many thanks to everyone who continues coming back, and to my simply amazing Beta who works nothing but pure magic. XD

As always, Comments, Likes and Follows are nothing but a joy to authors, and are always loved.

Hope you all are getting on well, and please enjoy the read!

* * *

"Hello, Detective."

There was a click of a pistol loading, and Jo instinctively reached for her gun at her hip. When her hand found the holster empty, she silently cursed. Taking a deep breath, she stood up slowly.

"I'm a cop", she said cautiously, warning him. "Think about what you're doing."

"Oh, I know exactly what I'm doing, Detective Martinez."

Jo narrowed her eyes as recognition flashed and the man holding a gun on her smirked. It was the individual they were searching for, the gun for hire, and the man who had shot at her.

"Oh, good! You remember me. That'll save us some time."

Jo was pissed. He had the nerve to show up here, in her home, and taunt her? Bad choice. "What do you want?" she asked evenly, betraying none of her anger.

"Simple. You know, all that helpful evidence you've been going around collecting?"

Jo stared calmly back at him, slowly making her way to the counter, and the knives, on her left. To her right, her cell phone started vibrating and she hesitated, unsure for a moment as to which to go for. Her intruder made that decision for her.

"Uh-uh, I don't think so. You touch the phone, I shoot at it, and this time I won't be trying to miss. Now, as for that silly little matter of evidence."

"What about it?" Jo continued the conversation, trying to not draw attention as to her target.

"I need it, or rather, I need to get rid of it."

"I don't have it." She was almost within arm's reach of the knives, just a little bit-

Beside her the fridge suffered greatly as her attacker fired his gun without warning. Jo jumped back, away from the trajectory of more bullets.

"Don't play games with me, I thought you were a smart girl. Leave the knives where they are, please."

"Alright, alright, let's talk about this." Jo backed up this time, away from the knives, as her intruder made his way towards her, gun still raised. She held her arms out, trying to avoid getting shot. "You don't need the gun; look, I'm not armed, you can put it away. We don't want anyone getting hurt." Jo made every attempt to keep her voice steady and calm, in truth she was anything but.

In the other corner of the room her house phone rang out like a shrill whistle and the gunman shot it so that the noise would cease.

"Personally, I really don't care who gets hurt." He shrugged. "I just want my evidence. Is it in there?" He waved the gun towards the paper bag still on the island. "Empty it." When Jo made no immediate move towards it, he grew impatient. "Empty it, NOW!"

Jo nodded slowly and turned over the already empty bag. She saw her cell phone ringing again on the countertop, and wasn't sure whether to be thankful or nervous.

[HENRY CALLING]

Would he come if she didn't answer? Was it him ringing earlier? Could he possibly know something was going on? Would she want him to come, with an uncontrolled suspect in her house? He had a bad habit of being dangerously heroic. Would he call Hanson, to see if they were together, working on something, when she didn't answer?

She wasn't sure. She hoped so.

"Where are you hiding it?" the intruder before her asked sharply, "WHERE IS IT?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. You know, it's illegal for cops to bring evidence on an active case home without signing it out. Did I sign anything out?" she suppressed an eye roll, not wanting to encourage him to use the gun again. "I'm sure you know the answer." She had a desperate hope that this simple detail would deter him, but doubted it.

He did know the answer; and she hadn't. "Of course you didn't, you didn't want them to know you had it. Don't play games with me, I'm not an idiot."

Jo widened her eyes innocently. It worried her how well he knew her whereabouts and her actions as of late, and it spoke volumes of the precinct's lack of security. He had certainly been well trained, which was understandable, they already knew his employer was brilliant and she would never hire someone who could potentially screw things up for her.

Her continued acting meant that she only had a second's notice to duck for cover as the intruder raised his weapon and fired at the light bulb above her. There was a shower of glass as she dove out of the way and her unwelcome guest tore through the paper bag, seemingly unsatisfied with her demonstration only moments earlier.

Frustrated now, he darted forwards. Jo reached up to block his advance, but size favoured him, and after struggling with each other for a few long moments he had his silencer pressed against her skull, the safety off. Jo froze.

"Well, that's a bit better. You move, I shoot. Alright? Good. Now. The Evidence?"

Jo said nothing.

"Well, if you're going to be like that… Let's see. You had it at the precinct, you talked to that weirdo doctor… then through that door," he pointed to Jo's front door, "to this counter here-" he pointed again, "-and then over behind that bookshelf." Pushing her forwards, he moved the both of them so that he could see what she'd been doing when she first came in. "Ah! A safe! Well that looks promising."

Still, Jo said nothing.

"This would be so much easier if you helped."

Jo rolled her eyes. "I told you-"

"Fine." He interrupted her before she could finish. "Now, the way I see it, the evidence you stole could be in one of two places. In this safe, or with your doctor friend and, well, if you don't have it, maybe he will? A friend of mine has been watching him and, oh, the things you don't know, Detective." He raised an eyebrow at her. "Shall we find out if he has it?" The man pulled out a phone, winked and punched in a number. As it rang, he looked at her expectantly, his features portraying complete confidence.

"Wait," Jo said softly.

"Knew it." He hung up. "Got a soft spot for him, don't you?"

She sighed. "The safe."

"Obviously." He rolled his eyes. "I need the combo, though."

"17-06-79."

"See? There's a good girl." He pushed Jo to the side, gun still pointed at her, as he busied his other hand with the safe lock.

Feigning weakness, Jo stumbled a few steps closer to the counter and he laughed.

"Maybe you should be looking into a new line of work, sweetie, this one doesn't seem right for you." He spun the lock once more and the safe popped open. "Ooh, a gun, too, you're too kind to me. But where are all those pretty papers?"

"Don't touch my gun," Jo warned.

"Touchy touchy." He shrugged with a smile and tucked Jo's gun into his waistband. "I think I'll keep it as payment for your lying to me."

"What are you talking about?"

"There's no evidence. I guess I will have to get someone to pay your friend a visit."

"I thought you said you were smart."

He narrowed his eyes and rummaged around in the safe again, this time finding the memory stick. He eyed it suspiciously, shrugged, tossed it onto the wooden floor and crushed it under his foot.

Lights flashed outside in what might have been Hanson's worst timing yet.

Startled, Jo's intruder lost his focus and Jo reached for the bottle of wine still on the counter. She brought it above her shoulder to strike him on the head, but he was too good a shot. The bottle burst in the air, wine and glass raining down. Jo reached her arm up and ducked to shield her eyes from yet another shower of glass while she simultaneously lunged at the gunman. She slashed at him with the broken neck of the bottle that had remained in her hand and managed to catch him in his side. He stumbled and she launched herself at him, knocking him over. Pinning down his gun hand, she placed a knee hard on his throat.

"Gotcha."

oOoOoOoOoOo

Henry rushed forwards; only seconds faster than the Detective he'd called for assistance. It wasn't clear whether he was ignoring Hanson's cries for him to stop, of if he just didn't hear them in his distraction.

"Jo?!" he called as his hand on the doorknob revealed the door to be open. "Jo!"

"In here-" she called out and as he rounded the corner he saw her sitting on the couch, a foot firmly on her intruder with his hands cuffed tightly behind his back.

Henry's eyes widened as he registered the red that saturated her white work shirt; glass shards across the room, bullets in numerous places. He rushed forward, worried. "Detective; are you hurt?!"

She shook her head slowly, tired after both a long day at work, and then an evening incident like that. "It's his blood." She looked over at the mess across her floor. "And wine." She winced. "Sorry about that."

He smiled, relieved. "No need to apologize, Detective; it served a noble purpose." He frowned and went towards the front door, looking for something, stepping carefully out of the way as more officers rushed through.

Hanson gave the Doc an odd look as he went past, gun drawn. (Apparently the backup he'd called had been closer than he.) Hanson evaluated the setting in an instant and inhaled sharply.

"Martinez; you O.K.?" he asked firmly, doing his job, but also worried for his friend.

Again, she nodded. "I'm fine. He caught me off guard; that's all."

Jo so wanted it to be nothing more than that - her professionalism and her pride demanded that it be nothing more than that - but he'd almost had her. She hated moments like this, those moments that made her question her own capabilities. They made her her own worst enemy and yet it was a sinking feeling she couldn't quite shake.

A couple of officers approached them and Hanson nodded in recognition. "Not much to do, guys and gals." He reached down to haul the assailant up and Jo reluctantly removed her foot. "Take'im out."

Jo watched him go. "Careful, I'm not sure how out of it he actually is," she called after them and received a few nods in return. She then turned to Hansen. "I'd like you to sweep the place for prints; he was here when I got home, I want to know what he got into."

Hanson nodded. "Yeah, of course." He snapped his fingers to get a uniform's attention and set him on the task. "I see you had things all handled nicely. Nice job, Martinez."

Jo frowned. "It was close. Your sirens threw him off-" she shrugged, "I got the upper hand. How did you know?" she asked him, although, if she was honest with herself, she already knew the answer.

"Henry called me in a panic 'cause he couldn't get a hold of you. With that hell of a case you two've been working on and the attack earlier this week, I can't blame him."

Jo nodded, a small smile on her lips. Her M.E. partner, ever too observant for his own good. This one was a story she'd have to hear. "I'd hoped he would-" she looked around. "-Where did he go anyways?"

"I'm over here, Detective." Henry peered around the corner of her open door and she was glad of the warm weather. "I have something you might want to look at."

Jo nodded, a slight grin forming on her mouth as she stepped over. "What did you find?"

"Look here." He pointed at her door and she looked closely. The red paint was untouched, the lock unscratched.

She shook her head, confused. "Henry?"

"The doorknob is loose. Recently it was handled very roughly, I'd imagine from someone grabbing it," he mimed the actions, "and turning it when it was locked, shaking it, trying to force it open." He dropped his hands and gestured inside. "Could you step inside, please, and lock the door?"

Jo did as she was asked. Curious, she closed the door in Henry's face, and turned the lever to lock her front door.

"Step back!" he called. She frowned and did so, only to have the door open into her house.

"But, how?" she asked, confused. "I just locked it. I could hear it, Henry."

"The deadbolt has been removed and replaced with a simple weight, allowing the sound of a firm lock, and further easy access for your intruder and perhaps for anyone else he may associate with?"

"Great," she replied sarcastically and jumped slightly as Hanson came up behind her, her nerves still on edge.

"Jo, d'you have a place you can stay the night? You can't stay here with the lock busted and the grunts are gonna be a bit, dusting the place."

He'd clearly heard the end of their conversation and Jo nodded as he spoke.

"Yeah, I'll grab a room at-"

"Nonsense," Henry interrupted her, "I have an extra room, and Abe as always would be glad of company other than myself."

Jo looked over hesitantly, not completely surprised, but certainly more than appreciative that he had offered.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course, of course!" he smiled. "It's safe, I assure you, Detective." He said to both of them.

"Yeah, it may be, but I'm gonna put a detail on you anyways, Jo; just in case."

Jo nodded slowly. "Fine. The backup would be nice anyway." She looked at the two of them and rolled her eyes. "Alright." She pointed upstairs as she spoke. "Well, I'm going to go grab some things, but I'll be right back." She warned, "Don't get into any trouble, boys. I may not have a lock, but it's still my house."

Henry clasped his hands together and dipped his head, a gentle smile on his face as Detective Hanson opted for a more humourous assent: "Oh, don't you worry, pizza's already on its way!"


End file.
